


KAZ

by OnceUponADestiel (Jems_of_Grace)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby, Canon Divergent, Community: deancasbigbang, DCBB, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2015, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, First Time, Human!Impala - Freeform, Impala, M/M, Masturbation, Smut, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, case!fic, dcbb15, dean/cas - Freeform, kind of, sam is a main character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:19:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jems_of_Grace/pseuds/OnceUponADestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has always had a weirdly strong attachment to his car that he has never been able to satisfactorily explain, even to himself. He knows that he chose the Impala for his dad on that first infamous time travel experience that Cas sent him on. But now he has another chance to take a trip into the past and this time he finds out exactly why he's always felt such a weirdly profound bond with this particular vehicle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Key to the Ignition

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [The Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2015](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/). 
> 
> The idea for this story pretty much comes from [this tweet](https://twitter.com/thejimmichaels/status/268915685479038976) from Supernatural co-executive producer Jim Michaels.
> 
> Also a little bit because of [this awesome post](http://sylveonce.tumblr.com/post/51482555903/i-feel-like-everyone-in-the-supernatural-fandom) and lots of other pretty cool [human!impala headcanons](http://onceuponadestiel.tumblr.com/tagged/human!impala-headcanons).
> 
> P.S. Sorry for the cheesy chapter titles but I couldn’t resist :)
> 
> P.P.S. Special thanks to [sonyodabaz](http://sonyodabaz.tumblr.com/), the talented artist who created three beautiful pieces of work for this fic. X
> 
> And to cqstiel who beta-ed the story for me on an incredibly short deadline - you're awesome! X
> 
> ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
>  
> 
> _“...this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car -- no, the most important object -- in pretty much the whole universe...“_
> 
>  
> 
> _“The Impala, of course, has all the things other cars have... and a few things they don't. But none of that stuff's important. This is the stuff that's important. The army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray - it's still stuck there. The Legos that Dean shoved into the vents -- to this day, heat comes on and they can hear 'em rattle. These are the things that make the car theirs -- really theirs. Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed, 'cause it's the blemishes that make her beautiful...“_
> 
>  
> 
> _“And when it was clear, they'd park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars... for hours... without saying a word. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls..._
> 
>  
> 
> _...but they were never, in fact, homeless.”_
> 
>   
>  **Chuck Shurley (aka god), Swan Song**   
>  **Supernatural (Season 5, Episode 22)**   
> 

Dean finished waxing his baby and stood back to admire her awesome black sheen in the early morning sunlight.

She was parked up outside their chosen motel of the night and Dean hadn’t been able to resist giving her a quick tune up and clean down before they made their way back home to the bunker.

The case they’d wrapped up the previous evening had been relatively simple but Dean’s insomnia had kept him awake half the night in spite of any exhaustion. Finally, at about 5am, with Sam snoozing annoyingly peacefully in the next bed, he’d had enough. All the tossing and turning was beginning to drive him insane. He got up looking for something to do to occupy his mind and deter his loathsome thoughts. As usual the need for distraction had led him to the Impala.

It was probably hid dad’s fault. That one time when he lay into Dean about not looking after her properly was always there inside his mind, fresh as the day he said it: ‘ _Why don’t you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn’t have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it.’_ That one had hurt something real sore. John could lay into Dean as much as he liked but calling him out on not looking after his baby was below the belt. He probably would have said so at the time but Dean hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that it sounded weirdly like relationship advice and spent the time preoccupied with wondering why.

Dean tried to push the not so pleasant memory away and spent a couple of hours tinkering under the hood before giving her a full wash and wax. As if he knew by way of his strange moosey instincts, Sam came out of their motel room the second Dean was finished; yawning and stretching, his long tousled hair falling perfectly back behind his head. Bastard.

‘Oh look; it’s sleeping beauty,’ Dean smirked. That had to be about the hundredth time he’d made that joke to his brother. It wouldn’t be the last.

Sam smirked back, ‘You said it.’

Dean snorted, ‘Whatever. You’ll never look as good as my baby. Just look at that _shine!_ Did you ever see anything so beautiful, Sammy?’

‘Wow, how about you two get a room?’ Sam jerked a hand back at the motel behind him. Dean rolled his eyes. That had to be about the hundredth time Sam had made _that_ joke. Dean doubted it would be the last.

‘You wake up to do somethin’ useful? Could go grab us some pie?’

‘Sure. I’ll go grab you some pie. Give you two lovebirds some much needed space. I know you need your alone time and all.’

‘Ha ha,’ Dean drawled in a drab monotone. Sam stalked off in the direction of the diner opposite, smirking to himself. Dean rolled his eyes again and started packing away his tools in the back of the Impala. No, it definitely wasn’t the first time he’d made that joke. So yeah, maybe he was a _bit_ closer to the Impala than the average person was to their car but they’d been through a lot together; Dean had known this car all his life. _And just look at her,_ Dean stood back admiring her again as he grinned to himself. _She’s awesome._ It was hardly the weirdest part of his relationship with the car. Wait. Did he actually just think _relationship,_ referring to his _car_? _Okay, maybe Sammy’s got a point._

Dean had always thought it was kinda weird, how _he’d_ been the one to choose his car.

To an outsider that might not sound weird at all but anyone who had known Dean for more than twenty minutes knows that his car originally belonged to his father, who bought the 1967 Chevy Impala before his eldest son was even born.

It had been weird enough going back in time; even weirder to see a much younger version of his father than Dean had any memory of. Then on top of that to find out that his dad didn’t necessarily share the same taste in cars as Dean had always assumed... I mean, before Dean had intervened he’d been on the point of buying some lame ass VW van! Imagine if _that_ had been Dean’s legacy. Oh how the story would have changed...

It was no secret that the Winchester brothers had been through a lot over the years and that, funnily enough, Dean’s beloved car had come along for the ride. For a _long_ time the car had been the only constant in either of their lives, besides each other. When they had been living out of a variety of cheap dirty motel rooms, moving from one end of the country to the next with their father liable to disappear with barely a moment’s notice.

And then there were those years when Sam was away at Stanford and, apart from the odd run in with his dad, the car had been the only regular contact Dean had with anything familiar. Most the time it had just been him and the Impala and he’d bunk out on the back seat, parked out in some deserted field besides another nowhere road...

Dean wasn’t entirely sure himself why he was so attached to the car and had long assumed that it was because she was the closest thing to home the brothers had ever known. Of course, that was before they’d found the bunker.

That, he also presumed, was why he was so incredibly overprotective of her.  Not to mention the odd bout of jealousy whenever others had the opportunity to drive her. He’d never forget that one time some asshat demons got their claws on his baby. It still made him feel sick to think about it and that was nearly ten years ago. Contrarily, he’d been quick to let Meg drive her, that time when they needed a diversion for the leviathans. He still wondered about that. Of all the people, why _her_? After all the shit she’d put them through, why had he trusted her with his most precious possession? He hadn’t even hesitated before letting her behind his baby’s wheel.

Then there was Sammy. Little baby brother Sammy. He couldn’t tell you why, but Dean had long been averse to letting his ‘little’ brother drive his car and maybe it _was_ for the reasons he’d claimed at the time; the boy could be a careless driver... but recently, the reality was in reverse. Sam was probably a safer driver than he was and Dean was still reluctant to switch over every time Sam said he’d drive.

Something just didn’t add up.

Dean was usually too preoccupied to give it much thought.

He was _used_ to Sam driving now. Didn’t mean he _liked_ it. But Sam had taken over the wheel more than enough times for him to be well used to it. He’d had to. They couldn’t hunt together and have Dean driving a hundred percent of the time. Even if Dean would have preferred it that way. In spite of everything, he was still only human and humans gotta sleep _some_ time.

If there was one thing Dean hated more than other people driving _his baby_ , it was those few occasions when _he’d_ had to drive _other cars_.

There had been a couple of times over the years when the Impala had been on lockdown for one reason or another. That one time the Sam and Dean replica demons had got themselves a replica Impala. That time when they were on the run from the authorities and had to keep changing cars to avoid detection. That had been fucking awful. The entire time Dean had felt like he was cheating on her.

No wonder Sam thought Dean was a little bit _too_ close to the Impala.  

Sam came back from the diner with the pie, a girl’s number and a glowing smile on his face that gave ample reason for a big brother to start teasing. ‘She _the one_ , Sammy boy?’ Dean asked with mock sincerity.

‘Shut up,’ Sam muttered, waving him off and handing over the pie and a plastic fork. ‘I just wouldn’t mind finding something more meaningful for a change, y’know... We don’t know _anybody_. Pretty much everyone we’ve ever been close to is dead. I’m not like you; satisfied with the odd casual hook-ups... that’s not enough...’

‘Hey, hey, hey. _Below_ the belt.’ Dean said sternly. ‘There’s nothing _odd_ about my hook-ups.’ Sam snorted.

‘Whatever. You’ve got, what? _Two_ significant relationships in your life right now? _Me_ and your _car_.’

‘That’s not true,’ Dean retorted irritably.

‘Yeah, who else you got?’

‘There’s Cas,’ Dean blurted without thinking and blushed as he realised what he was implying. ‘And uh...’ he struggled desperately to come up with another name. ‘Err...’ Sam interrupted Dean’s frantic attempt to save his argument, apparently unconcerned with what he may or may not have implied.

‘I’d just like to have a half-meaningful relationship for a while. I mean, I’m not stupid. I know it won’t last. Can’t get too close ‘cause of the hunting and stuff.’ He paused. ‘I just wouldn’t mind finding _someone_... Someone to make the nights more bearable and the days worth living.’

Dean let Sam’s words wash over him as thoughts of the angel took priority in his brain. He hadn’t seen Cas in weeks. He had no idea where he was or what he was doing other than that it was _angel business_ and _yes,_ he _was_ worried about him...

Almost manically so.

Last time Dean had heard from him he’d said that he would visit the Winchesters as soon as it was done. That had been it. Pretty vague and unspecific. And Dean had drunk himself into a stupor three times this week worrying about him. He’d tried praying but there’d been no response; not so much as an emoticon in his message box. He tried calling him but the number kept dialling out as though it had been disconnected. So Dean had no way of contacting him, no way of knowing what was going on and had spent the last three days on the point of hyperventilating. He just couldn’t get his thoughts out straight (haha).

‘Where the fuck _is_ Cas anyway?’ Dean found himself voicing the question out loud and interrupting Sam’s _I want a meaningful relationship_ monologue.

Sam looked slightly uncomfortable at the change of conversation. ‘Um, dunno.’

‘I know you don’t know,’ Dean said, the words coming out fast and panicked. It was the first time he’d mentioned the fear to Sam. ‘That’s exactly my point. He could be dead in a ditch for all we know-‘

‘He’s not,’ Sam said confidently and Dean looked at his brother in disbelief, daring him to be holding back information.

‘How d’you know?’

‘Because... _you’d_ know.’

‘What?’

‘I think you’d _know_ if something like that had happened to Cas.’

‘How?’ Dean asked, utterly perplexed and _so_ not in the mood for Sam’s vagueness.

‘I dunno,’ Sam said again. ‘You two seem to be connected like that. I just think you’d _know_.’

‘Okay, Mystic Meg. Maybe _he’d_ know if _I_ was in that kind of trouble ‘cause he’s an _angel_ , dumb ass, but how the fuck am _I_ supposed to know if something’s up with _him_?’ Dean’s frustration was palpable but Sam simply shrugged, apparently unable to explain his own reasoning.

Dean growled. ‘Let’s assume for a second you’re right. Why hasn’t he called? I haven’t had a smiley in _weeks_!’

‘I don’t _know,_ Dean. I just feel like you’re overreacting.’

‘Over- _overreacting_?’ Dean spluttered, enraged.

‘You’re on the verge of hyperventilating. It reminds me of that time Bela had the car towed.’

‘What?’ Dean asked, taken aback. He hadn’t thought about that particular incident in _years._

‘Yeah, remember... she had it towed but we didn’t know and when we came out of the diner, the car was gone. It was like you’d lost your kid or something, the way you reacted. Panicking and falling apart. I swear, you forgot how to breathe at one point-‘ Sam was chortling now.

‘I did _not_ forget how to breathe!’ Dean interrupted irritably. ‘She stole my car! Of course I panicked. Why are we talking about this anyway? It’s completely unrelated! We were talking about _Cas_ and this is nothing like that!’   

‘Okay... ‘kay... sorry. It’s just fuel for thought, y’know... drawing parallels.’

‘Get a life, Sam.’

Sam guffawed whilst Dean started up the engine. He’d barely started his pie but now he was thinking about Cas and he didn’t much fancy it.

The brothers made their way home and though not another word was passed between them concerning Cas, Dean couldn’t let go of thoughts of the angel. He found himself taking comfort in the feel of the wheel beneath his fingers, gripping the leather tighter than he ordinarily would whenever a particularly unpleasant thought crossed his mind and one time even fondly stroking over the dash when they were stopped at a red light; helplessly picturing Cas lying dead on the road; a vivid image of ashen black wings burnt into the asphalt painted on his mind...

 

 

 


	2. Getaway Car

They were maybe a couple of miles from the bunker when it happened. Out of nowhere a young girl, probably no more than five, ran out into the road. Dean had been speeding along just above the speed limit but it was a fast road, not the kind that pedestrians often crossed, especially since it was in a pretty desolate area on an otherwise deserted stretch of road.

The second he saw her; blonde curls flying, terrified blue eyes turning to stare at the fast approaching vehicle, Dean let out a yelp that startled Sam from staring monotonously down at his phone.

‘WOAH! DEAN!’

‘FUUUCK!’ The Impala was seconds away from hitting her when the engine went out, stopping the car dead in its tracks. The girl just stood there looking pretty shaken up, clearly breathing heavily, probably going into shock.

Dean stared at her. He was shaking and breathing pretty hard himself. Next to him Sam was talking. ‘Where the fuck did she even come from?’ Dean shook his head wordlessly as he tried to calm himself down. He’d been milliseconds away from colliding with that girl; from whipping the life from her lungs faster than blinking and there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

Lucky the car gave out really.

Speaking of which, _what was up with that?_ The Impala’s engine _never_ gave out. It was just another one of her amazing qualities in Dean’s opinion: she was incredibly reliable. He had never known her to give out in all the years he had driven her and she’d never done so, as far as he knew, all the years John drove her.

But she _had_ cut out just now... clean as a whistle...

Sam and Dean got out of the car, coming around the sides to meet the girl in the middle. Dean was still shaking so Sam spoke for him.

‘Hey there. Are you okay?’

She nodded silently, golden curls bouncing. Her clear blue eyes were wide and terrified and she clutched her coat tight to her chest as though scared of loosing it.

‘My brother nearly hit you but, you know; he didn’t see you there till the last second! I’m sure you know not to run out into the road like that, right?’ she nodded again. ‘Especially down here. Cars come down pretty fast.’

The girl looked like she was on the verge of tears, her eyes wide, cheeks flushed pink but otherwise pale faced in the evening light.

‘’Kay, Sammy. Give the girl a break,’ Dean chided, trying to still his own shaking. ‘She had a lucky escape and I’m sure she won’t do it again in a hurry. Am I right?’ the girl nodded furiously, looking gratefully to the older Winchester who smiled kindly down at her. ‘Where did you come from anyway, kid? You seemed to come out of thin air and we’re pretty much in the middle of nowhere here.’ Dean scanned a quick circle, searching for some kind of parental figure or maybe a parked car, but the road and the surrounding fields were empty. He frowned down at her, more alarmed than ever, and was suddenly relieved that she’d stumbled across _their_ path and not anyone else’s.

The girl seemed too scared to actually say anything and Dean didn’t blame her; he and his overgrown brother cut a pretty intimidating silhouette against the lonely road, but she did point, off towards the right in the direction of one of the deserted fields but there was nothing there so far as Dean could see. ‘’Kay... you got a parent back there? A mom... or a dad?’ Maybe they were in trouble. Still the girl said nothing, gave only a slow shake of her head... However, she didn’t lower her arm and Dean turned to stare at the place she was pointing to. He still couldn’t see anything apart from desolate scrubland.

Sam and Dean exchanged identical worried expressions.

‘Look kid, I know you’re probably in shock and we’re strangers to you but you’ve got to give us something else to go off here.’ Sam demanded, obviously frustrated but Dean held up a hand to silence him before he could keep nagging her. Sam was brilliant at pretty much everything; he was especially excellent at showing empathy and coercing information out of people when they were working a case. Even so, when it came to kids, the guy was completely clueless.

‘Is there somewhere safe we can take you?’ Dean tried a new tack. ‘Do you live close by?’ He doubted it. Pretty much no one lived this close to the bunker. There was a small nowhere town a couple of miles back down the road but no houses in between as far as he knew - and he knew quite a lot. He and Sam had covered the area pretty thoroughly after first discovering the bunker. As he suspected, the girl shook her head slowly again, arm still raised up in the direction of the field.

Sam and Dean shared another worried glance.

She was still pointing and something about it was beginning to feel odd. The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck were prickling and he turned once again to stare into the empty field. Sam turned to stare too and the brothers felt a brief moment of relief as a dark shape came into view. Thinking this must be the child’s guardian, Dean stepped forward, calling out, ‘Hey! Over here!’ And then the dark shape came into focus; when Dean saw the man it belonged to his brief relief quickly shattered.

His eyes were black.

‘Shit,’ Dean turned back to the girl, his first instinct to protect her. Maybe get her in the Impala whilst they dealt with the demon but he quickly realised that it was far too late for that. Gone were the girl’s beautiful clear blue eyes, replaced instead with an all-consuming shiny blackness.

Dean balked. It was actually physically repulsive to see someone so young and innocent filled to the brim with such vehement hate and evil.

‘Shit,’ Sam agreed when he turned and saw the girl himself. ‘Dean, in the car. NOW! They’ve got us surrounded!’ Dean blinked, he’d been unable to tear his eyes away from the girl but now when he looked around he could see other dark shapes creeping up on them from the previously unoccupied surrounding fields, like an army of scarecrows in the eerie evening light. The sun was setting on the horizon casting a creepy orange-grey glow over the proceedings.

‘Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, son of a- fuck!’ There had to be at least two dozen demons in those fields. Dean looked back to the girl wondering if there was any chance of saving her but the girl gave a wicked smile and dropped her coat and he knew there was none. For the first time, Dean noticed the bullet hole in her chest, days old blood circling the wound where it had seeped into the fabric of her denim dungarees.

He felt physically sick and almost retched right there. He backed off, feeling the backs of his knees hit the hood of the Impala and as if by magic she roared furiously back to life.

Sam and Dean jumped into the car and before Dean even had a chance to put his foot down, the car was hurtling forwards at seventy miles an hour. The demon girl practically flew out of the way, moving at impossible speed for a child of any age but still only just in time, missing the car by a fraction.

They both turned to stare out the back window and saw a whole host of demons just stood in the middle of the road, the girl at the center front, staring after them, all of them pointing straight at them. The girl wore a menacing leer that split Dean in two, so revolting he felt sick again; so unnatural that the first pricks of fiery hot tears floated in the corners of his eyes and he swore he would personally destroy the demon that possessed her.

‘ _Dean!_ Eyes on the road!’

Dean startled and turned back to stare at the road, realizing that the car was careering into the opposite lane. Fortunately it was still empty. He fixed his eyes on the road ahead, hands taking a firm grip on the wheel as his shaking finally calmed and his breath finally evened out.

‘I don’t even know what to say,’ Sam exclaimed, breaking through the silence. ‘I can’t believe we just got ambushed like that and so close to home!’

Dean’s grinned internally upon hearing his brother call the bunker home. He sometimes worried that Sam didn’t really want a home there. ‘Yeah, tell me about it. Looks like we’ve found our next big bad, Sammy.’

‘Yeah...’ Sam agreed thoughtfully. ‘And your driving instincts! Wow. They really saved the day this time... Never let me tell you you’re a bad driver again ‘cause that was awesome, seriously Dean!’

But even though Sam’s praise made him feel all fuzzy inside – in a manly way, of course (and he was a _damn_ good driver, thank you very much!) he couldn’t just sit back and take such an unwarranted compliment.

‘And the way you stopped right before we hit that girl! I honestly thought we were gonna take her down-‘ Sam continued to blabber on apparently, riding some kind of hunter’s high that Dean unfortunately hadn’t been privy to on this occasion.

‘It wasn’t me,’ Dean finally, reluctantly, admitted.

‘What?’

‘It wasn’t me... I didn’t stop the car. She just... cut out...’

‘Seriously?’ Sam was staring at him now, his enthusiasm beginning to fade. ‘Huh. Well that was a pretty big coincidence...’

‘Tell me about it... and I don’t believe in coincidences.’ Dean agreed.

‘You think the demon girl somehow overpowered it?’

‘I dunno... maybe...’ Dean thought about it for a second before coming back with a firm, ‘No. That’s not it.’ It was beginning to grow pretty dark but still he could feel Sam’s eyes on him. ‘I _might_ have thought the same thing but didn’t you notice, just now? How as soon as we started to back away from the demon girl, the engine just randomly came back to life!’

‘Yeah... that’s true... yeah. I did notice... Guess I was just too caught up in everything else to think but, yeah... why would it do that?’

‘Dunno. There’s no logical engineering reason that I can think of. Even if it had been just a regular break down, she wouldn’t have started up again like that. I mean, sure, if I’d turned the ignition... but at that point we weren’t even in the car.’

‘Yeah... that’s really... really _weird.’_

‘And then... when we got in...’ and for some reason this was the part that Dean was most reluctant to admit. Maybe because it somehow cemented the idea that there was something supernatural going on with his car. ‘I didn’t put my foot down on the gas. My feet weren’t even _touching_ the pedals yet. She just started moving again all on her own.’

Dean turned to stare at his brother in the dark and could see him staring back, a skeptical expression on his face.

‘You’re saying the car accelerated? By itself?’

‘Yep.’ Dean looked back to the empty road.

‘That’s insane.’

‘That’s what happened. That’s our lives, Sammy. We’ve definitely seen weirder.’

‘Yeah, _out there._ ’ Sam nodded his head towards the window. ‘Not _in_ the car. Not in _this_ car,’ and Dean understood where he was coming from, he really did. They’d known this car all their life. ‘What like... you think it’s got a mind of its own now or something?’

‘Everything we’ve seen and you really find _that_ so unbelievable?’

‘I know... it’s just a lot to take in, is all... she’s been in the family for a _long_ time.’

‘Yes. She has.’

‘I mean... there was that one time the woman in white controlled it but I’ve never known anything supernatural overpower it since.’

Dean was thinking back again to when he’d time traveled. Seeing her looking brand new, parked outside that garage and convincing John to buy her...

‘You think she’s possessed?’ Sam interrupted his thoughts. ‘You know, like that racist demon truck _thing_ all those years ago?’

‘I dunno... maybe, but it doesn’t _feel_ like it, y’know. I’ve never felt any cold spots or nothin’. And Sam, we keep hunting stuff in her boot. Silver knives, salt, holy water. The whole nine yards. You think she could stand that if she was possessed?’

‘I know, but we should probably properly rule it out, right? I mean... it could be someone we _know_. Err... _knew_...’ he corrected himself with a grimace.

‘Who?’ It was Dean’s turn to sound skeptical. ‘Like dad? Nah, he’s definitely living the dream life down in hell.’

‘No, not dad. It doesn’t feel like him.’

‘No it does _not_ , thank god. So who’re you thinking?’

‘Dunno... but now I think about it, there is a kind of crazy familiarity about it.’

‘Dude, this car had been in our lives since before we were born. Of course she’s familiar!’

‘That’s not what I mean,’ Sam tried to explain, sounding a tad petulant but he needn’t have bothered really. Dean knew exactly what he meant. There really was an odd familiarity about the car that surpassed her exterior and went more along the lines of her personality. And that there was a puzzling question all by itself.

Could a car really even have a personality?

 

 

 


	3. Into Reverse

They finally got back to the bunker about half an hour later and Dean’s mood soured further as soon as the bunker’s door swung open. He had half hoped to find Cas back; had been almost relying on the fantasy to get him from point A to point B. But there was no sign of the Winchester’s favorite angel beyond the threshold. This did nothing to improve Dean’s already shaken spirits. In fact, they lowered dramatically and the second Sam realized Cas wasn’t there, he was looking at his older brother, concern reflected in his sunflower eyes. Sam knew Dean well enough to know that Dean had been counting on Cas’s reappearance the whole way home.

He watched guardedly as Dean lowered his eyes, half expecting him to fly into a rage. Instead, he gave a brief head shake and muttered something about going to bed.

Sam watched him walk off down the stairs; head hung, and felt a wave of compassion for the other man. It was obvious really. Dean didn’t even try that hard to hide it anymore and besides, Sam had figured it out years ago...

Dean was in love with his angel.

It was as simple as that.

Dean might not be ready to admit it to anyone else but Sam thought that he might finally have admitted it to himself, which was a pretty big deal in and of itself. And even if there was little chance of anything ever coming about between them (probably by sheer force of Dean’s pig headedness), Sam wished he could at least find a way to reassure him that Cas was safe. He meant what he’d said earlier. Whatever Dean said, Sam was sure the connection between the hunter and the angel worked both ways. Something to do with that _more profound bond_ Cas had mentioned all those years ago...

Sam wasn’t sure what would happen to Dean if Cas did die (permanently) but he was sure it would be pretty horrific to watch and he doubted a lifetime of peace and sweetness afterwards could make it up to him. Not that he would ever get that. _He’d probably give up anyways..._

Sighing to himself, Sam locked the bunker door behind him before descending the steps into the main room of the bunker. There was no sign of Dean and he figured he had retreated to his own room where he could mourn his missing angel in peace.

Sam didn’t feel remotely tired. After the long (mostly) boring drive, he needed something to occupy his overactive brain, which wasn’t even close to shutting down for the night. He cast his thoughts up to the heavens, hoping at least one angel could spare him a moment to answer his prayer. ‘C’mon,’ he muttered aloud before hearing the fluttering of feathered wings. For a second he dared to hope it would be Cas but wasn’t overly surprised to see that it wasn’t.

The angel that had entered the bunker was one Sam had never seen before. He occupied a short male vessel, thin grey hair balding in the middle and a face lined with age. He was dressed in plain ordinary clothing; beige sweater and grey pants. Dull blue eyes stared at Sam, impassive. Sam felt immediately wary of the newcomer and wondered if he had made a mistake inviting him into their home; their previous experiences with angels keeping him on guard.

‘Sam Winchester,’ the angel said, voice as indistinctive as his appearance.

‘Yes.’ Sam confirmed. ‘And you are?’

‘My name is Petiel. You prayed for angelic assistance? May I say it is an honor to help in any way I can. Many angels speak highly of the Winchester brothers.’

‘Right,’ Sam answered, only partially relieved; his hunter’s instincts warning him to stay cautious. ‘But not _all_ angels, right... It’s about Cas. That is... the angel Castiel. D’you know where he is or even, if he’s okay?’

The angel smiled pleasantly. ‘Ah, yes. Castiel. To the best of my knowledge, he is in no immediate danger, although your concern becomes you... as to the whys and wherefores... I am but a lowly angel and therefore not party to that information but, as I understand it, he has gone to 1973.’

‘What?’ Sam wasn’t sure if he’d heard right. ‘Did you just give me a year?’

‘Indeed. As I say, I’m not privy as to the reason _why_ but your friend has indeed taken flight into the past.’

‘Okay. Time travelling again, Cas? Really?’ Sam muttered to himself.

He was only a little surprised; Sam had expected a location, not a year, but it wasn’t like he was completely unfamiliar with the angel’s time travelling capabilities. After all, he’d experienced it first hand on more than one occasion.

‘So 1973 did you say? I wonder why he’d have gone back _there_?’ Something about that particular year was nagging at him. ‘Wait. Wasn’t that the year Dean went back to before? When he found out mom used to hunt?’ he was talking to himself more than to Petiel; thinking out loud.

‘As I said, I don’t know the particulars, but I believe he was under orders to do so.’

‘Right. Orders... from Hannah or-?’

‘I believe so,’ the angel frowned. ‘There have been a few... _disturbances_ in heaven recently. It is possible this is somehow supposed to correct things as they stand but that is purely guesswork on my part – it may be a completely unrelated matter.’

‘Well, I guess that’s... that’s fine, I guess...’ Sam felt a bit put out; he didn’t really have any new information. It was all a bit vague, but the knowledge that Cas was in no immediate danger ought to appease Dean when Sam gave him the news the following morning. Surely he could somehow find out more though? ‘D’you think I could maybe speak to Hannah? Or another angel who might have a better idea what’s going on?’ he didn’t want to sound rude but this angel really didn’t seem to know a lot.

‘It is unlikely that Hannah would speak to you as she is overly occupied as it is. Another angel may be willing to speak with you but I don’t advise it. It is unlikely that even if they do know more than I, they will be willing to part with the information. It is not common knowledge so I can only assume it is a matter of some secrecy.’

Sam’s hunter’s senses were tingling but he wasn’t sure why. ‘Yeah... yeah, you’re probably right... thanks anyway.’

‘Not a problem. If I should come across further information would you like me to keep you informed?’

‘Yes!’ Sam answered enthusiastically. ‘Thank you! That’d be great.’ Sam couldn’t believe it, out of all the angels that might have been summoned he seemed to have lucked into one of the more helpful ones.

The angel departed with a reassuring nod and a sudden flutter of wings and Sam went to bed feeling pleased with himself, eagerly anticipating giving Dean the good news.

Unfortunately things didn’t go quite according to plan in that regard. Come morning, Sam woke to the sound of Dean yelling his name from the map room and when he went to investigate, he found Dean pulling an angel blade on a quivering Petiel.

‘Dean, no-‘

‘Sam,’ Dean interrupted before Sam could make himself heard. ‘This flying dude says he knows you. That true?’

‘Uh, yeah actually... he seems okay. Chill; just put down the knife. Can’t you see he’s terrified?’ Dean lowered his arm reluctantly but kept a wary eye on the newcomer.

‘Who are you, anyways?’

‘My name is Petiel.’

‘Ahuh,’ Dean said, totally unimpressed. ‘What I actually meant was: _what are you doin’ here?_ And how d’you know him?’ Dean asked, swinging round to stare quizzically at his brother.

‘Um, well... now, Dean, don’t get mad. I summoned him.’ The angel flinched. ‘ _Sorry,_ force of habit. _Not a demon_. I prayed to him last night to find out what’s happened to Cas.’

‘And you didn’t think to wake me first?’

‘You _need_ to sleep,’ Sam answered, exasperatedly. ‘And I know you haven’t slept well in _weeks!_ It wasn’t bad news and I figured it could wait till morning.’ Unsurprisingly, Dean didn’t look as though he agreed.

‘So where is he?’ Dean asked, returning his attention back to Petiel.

‘In 1973.’

‘What?’

‘Time travel.’ Sam supplied.

‘Ohhh... _again? Really,_ Cas?’

‘The reason for my premature return, Sam Winchester... I’m afraid I’ve heard some unfortunate news.’

‘WHAT?’ Sam and Dean shouted simultaneously. The angel took a step back looking alarmed but he continued to speak.

‘The angel Castiel, seems to have got himself stuck in some kind of time loop.’

‘A what now?’

‘A time loop. That is, he is living the same day over and over again.’ It was Sam’s turn to groan, he had experience with those; the never ending Tuesdays that Gabriel had subjected him to.

‘So Cas is stuck on repeat. What now?’

‘Well... the only way for him to return to the present time would be if something interrupted the pattern. Think of it like an ever turning wheel, from start to finish in one loop. It needs someone to slam on the breaks, so to speak.’

‘I’ll do it.’ Dean called out immediately, just as Sam had known he would.

‘It will be incredibly risky,’ the angel warned. ‘Time travel is a difficult path to foretell.’

‘Yeah well, you’re telling that to a seasoned time traveler so don’t sweat it.’

The angel nodded. ‘Very well. Remember, you need to break the chain of events to set Castiel free. On one,’ something felt wrong about this to Sam; his hunter’s instincts prickling again. ‘Two,’ the angel raised his hand in front of Dean’s face, a foreboding glint in his dull eyes. ‘Three.’ Before Sam had a chance to object, he pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead.

 

 

 


	4. Car Crash

‘Sam, step back.’ The sound of Castiel’s gravelly voice came over Sam’s shoulder. Petiel was smirking and Sam found himself doing as he was told, wondering what kind of trouble he has landed his brother in now.

‘Cas? What’s going on?’ But Castiel ignored him, intent as he was on the other angel.

‘Where did you send him?’

‘1973,’ the angel spat. Sam rolled his eyes, what was it with these bad guys and their melodrama? Cas came into view, one arm stretched out to shield Sam, forcing the hunter to take a step back.

‘Why?’ he asked, cold and calculated. ‘What is it about that year that you and your garrison are so desperate to change?’ The angel looked irritated, as though Cas’s failure to figure it out was a personal insult to him.

‘1973.’ Sam repeated, trying to make his uncooperative brain work. ‘Well that’s a good few years before either me or Dean were born so...’ he petered out as he slowly slotted pieces together.

‘You’re trying to prevent the cupid that brought their parents together and, by doing so, prevent their conception?’ Cas asked calmly, having come to the same conclusion as Sam.

‘Uh,’ Sam muttered exasperatedly. ‘Not again. Haven’t we been through this before already with Anna?’ the two angels ignored him.

‘If you do that... _everything_ will change. And I’m not just talking about the lives of millions of people-‘

‘I dunno, man. That’s pretty significant,’ Sam interrupted.

‘I’m talking about the very fabric of the universe itself,’ Cas explained, turning to Sam. ‘Without the birth of the righteous man, everything falls out of place.’

‘Ah,’ Cas had a point.

‘It’s a sacrifice we’re willing to make,’ Petiel answered coldly. ‘Without the Winchesters, the kingdom of heaven would be the peaceful, just place it was before they messed up the apocalypse. Not that you’re innocent in that, are you Castiel? It is time we put a stop to this nonsense and allowed things to return to how they should be.’

‘For fuck’s sake – I swear we’ve been through this before.’

‘Anna was weak and predictable. She thought in smaller circles than the ones we plan to draw.’

‘Yeah huh, you’re not gonna be drawing anything so you can go suck on your circles.’ And in one swift movement, Sam took up the angel blade that Dean had earlier abandoned, reached around Cas and thrust it through Petiel’s throat.

The angel spluttered, eyes glowing and sending out blue sparks like a wet wire. Then he was gone, his vessel crumpling to the ground. Grim, ashen angel wings, smaller than any Sam had ever seen before, spread out behind his back.

Sam turned back to Cas, who was staring down at the body sadly. ‘D’you think you can find him?’

‘I’ll always find Dean,’ he said without hesitation. ‘No matter where he is in space and time.’ Cas was clearly unembarrassed by this frank emission but it felt like the kind of thing soul mates might say in a romantic drama and Sam wanted to blush on his behalf.

Instead he blinked, trying to shake the inconvenient thought from his head and asked, ‘What happened to you? Where were you? Dean was going out of his mind worrying and-‘

‘I went to 1973.’

‘Petiel wasn’t lying about _that_ then.’

Cas frowned. ‘What else did he say?’ Sam explained. ‘A faction of angels went back to that year. I was sent back with a couple of my brothers to try and stop them. We couldn’t understand what they were hoping to achieve but Petiel’s confession sheds a lot of light on the situation.’

‘He said you were stuck in a time loop. That’s why he sent Dean – to stop it.’

Cas actually growled. ‘There was _no_ time loop. And now Dean could be in grave danger. We were unable to sieve out some of the rebellious angels... I only came back because I sensed Dean was in trouble.’

‘Wow,’ Sam was gobsmacked by the angel’s frankness and also by the sheer force that seemed to connect him to his brother. Even from more than forty years ago, Cas could _feel_ Dean’s danger. That had to be a pretty powerful connection they shared. Cas frowned at Sam, cocking his head to the side.

‘I should... go. Now.’

‘Yes.’ Sam agreed. ‘You should. Should I come along for the ride or-?’

‘No. It would be better if you stayed here. We don’t need to further confuse the situation.’

‘No,’ Sam agreed again, trying not to take it personally as Cas disappeared on the spot with nothing to show he’d ever been there but the light fluttering of feathers.

 

 

 

When Dean arrived in 1973, he found himself immediately caught up in a fight. He instantly became suspicious of Petiel’s true intentions – surely there had been no need to drop him right in the thick of it like this?

The angels had him outnumbered three to one in an old car factory. They were surrounding him on all sides, backing him up against a wall, but they didn’t seem to be in any rush to kill him.

‘What should we do with him?’ an angel in a small female vessel asked. The other two seemed as clueless as her.

‘Are we _meant_ to kill him? Petiel didn’t mention this in the plans.’

Dean knew he shouldn’t have trusted that feathered phony. ‘Son of a bitch,’ he muttered beneath his breath.

‘Maybe we could ask the witch to deal with him,’ the third angel suggested and the other two looked at him with interest. ‘It needn’t be anything permanent; just something to keep him out of the way until we’ve dealt with his parents. He should disappear then anyway.’ The other two were nodding as though this was a perfectly reasonable suggestion.

Meanwhile, Dean was backed up against the rough concrete wall thinking: _oh c’mon, not gross witches as well as dick angels! Fuck’s sake..._ ‘You mind telling me what’s going on?’ he blurted out loud but the angels ignored him, one pinning him up against the wall with his angelic powers, whilst another ran off into the back of the factory, shouting.

‘Where’s the witch?’

A few minutes later a woman appeared. Dean could tell she wasn’t another angel because she lacked the haughty self-righteousness that angels always seemed to be wearing. _Except Cas, ‘course. It’s been a while since he’s looked like that._ She was a tall, dark, attractive woman with flashing green eyes.

‘Well _this_ should be interesting,’ she greeted in a light melodic voice. ‘Never tried anything quite like this before.’

‘What, you’re giving me the guinea-pig treatment?’

The witch ignored him, pulling from her pocket a stick of white chalk. She proceeded to draw a large circle around Dean’s feet and then sat back on her heels, looking around the garage. If Dean didn’t know any better he’d say, judging by her pensive expression, that she was searching for inspiration.

She went over to a pile of junk (that looked much the same as any other to Dean) and began collecting together a few loose bolts and small car parts. She added these to a small black leather bag and then threw it in Dean’s direction, where it landed at his feet. Dean flinched but nothing further happened.

Then she began to chant and thin black tendrils of smoke began to drift upwards from the bag. Dean closed his mouth, trying not to breathe it in even though he knew it would be impossible to hold his breath for much longer.

The smoke was coming on thicker and faster, making it difficult to see. There was a flash of electric blue light, like a dozen tiny strands of blue lightning and for a second, Dean thought it was coming from the leather bag too, but then he realized a figure had appeared within the light strands.

The figure moved at an extraordinary speed and the angel that had been holding Dean suspended dropped dead. Dean collapsed to the floor, coughing and spluttering. One of the other angels yelled out and Dean looked up in time to see the flick of a tan trench coat.

‘CAS!’

But the angel didn’t have time for greetings. The witch carried on chanting as Castiel destroyed the two remaining angels. She seemed too consumed in her spell craft to realize what was going on, or maybe she just didn’t care.

‘DEAN?’ Cas called out.

‘I’m all right, Cas.’ Dean yelled back, relieved that his angel was okay. ‘Just get this fucking witch away from me!’ The spell seemed to prevent him from leaving the circle and the next thing he knew, Cas was jumping in beside him, forcing Dean out by sheer willpower. ‘CAS!’ Dean bellowed when he realised what had happened. Just Cas and the leather bag remained within the confines of the circle. A split second later and the bag exploded in a silvery light, hitting Cas square in the chest.

Dean managed to get to his feet and tried to reach out to Cas but some invisible force seemed to lift him off his feet, forcing him backwards towards the witch. She was sat down, grinning maniacally as the smoke enveloped Cas. Dean took one look at her and punched her square in the face, knocking her out flat. He turned back around to stare at Cas but he was enshrouded in smoke rings; even his face was barely visible, the sharp blue of his eyes cutting through the smog like an electric light.

‘Cas, are you-?’ he began to ask.

‘I don’t know what’s happening, Dean,’ Cas choked out. ‘I seem to have been hit by some kind of transformative spell. But it’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before. I doubt my vessel will remain the same for much longer.’ It was almost like he was trying to say goodbye. Dean wasn’t having any of it.

‘It’s all right Cas,’ he said, taking a tiny step forward, fearing he’d be forced back again. ‘We’ll figure it out. We always do.’ But Cas gave him one last regretful smile, his blue eyes blazing until he began to change, his eyes the first thing to go out.

The smoke rings changed silver, engulfing him entirely like a metallic whirlwind and Dean called out again, fearing the worst but Cas either couldn’t hear or couldn’t answer. And then the smoke seemed to flatten out but there was no sign of Cas standing above it and Dean began to go into full panic mode, frantically searching for any sign of Cas behind the fog.

The smoke began to dissipate. Dean screwed up his eyes trying to see and yes, there was definitely something there. A dark silhouette. But it was far too big to be Castiel and all the wrong shape.

And then the smoke cleared entirely and Dean stood back, his mouth gaping open. Cas was gone.

In his place was a car. But not just any old car. That was _Dean’s_ car – shiny black _1967 Chevrolet Impala_. And the registration plate across the front read: _KAZ 2Y5._

   

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Switching Gears

Dean stood dumbfounded, staring at the car. _His_ car. He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.

Gears were turning in his head as things began to slot into place but Dean shook them away furiously, unwilling to believe, even for a second, that this was anything other than a very stupid angelic prank. He even wondered if Gabriel could be involved before remembering that he was dead and wouldn’t that have made a whole lot more sense than this witchy plot someone had cooked up.

He turned to stare at the witch, who was passed out cold on the floor. She’d probably be able to somehow undo this stupid spell, right? And then he and Cas would be able to go back to their own time, gank that son of a bitch Petiel and everything would turn out just hunky dory. Like a fairy tale. Happily ever after and all that crap... he and Cas driving off into the sunset in _his_ car. Not this exact replica look-a-like here. _Wait, what was that about sunsets?_

But looking at the car he knew, he just _knew_ this was no replica. That was the genuine article right there. His baby, looking like she was fresh off the factory line...

Dean could feel a massive lump at the back of his throat, a heaviness in the pit of his stomach and a burning sensation behind his eyes looming threateningly like a dam holding back too much water.

But he couldn’t lose control right now, not until he knew for certain. He gulped back and the lump in his throat bobbed painfully but didn’t go away.

As though on queue, there was a fluttering of wings from behind him. Dean turned around to see an unfamiliar angel and was immediately on guard. The angel had a smallish male, possibly Asian vessel. He had thick dark brows above his warm eyes and a small smile of recognition.

‘Who are you?’ Dean asked gruffly, feeling out the angel blade tucked into his pocket.

‘Hannah.’

‘Hannah! I thought you weren’t taking another human vessel again?’

‘I never intended to. Unfortunately circumstances dictated that I must.’

‘Ahuh,’ Dean rolled his eyes, he didn’t give a crap about Hannah’s issues one way or the other. ‘What d’you know about what’s happened here?’ he knew Cas trusted her but he didn’t have the same faith in her – she’d once asked Cas to kill him after all.

‘I know Castiel went back in time without permission. I know Petiel and other angels of the same garrison have been working to undermine the little peace we’ve recently gained in heaven. His latest stint was to prevent the conception of the righteous man.’

‘Meaning me,’ he said, unamused.

‘Meaning you, Dean Winchester.’

‘I take it he hasn’t succeeded, seeing as I’m still here.’

‘Indeed. It seems Castiel destroyed him before coming back here to save you. Where is he by the way?’

‘You’re kidding? You honestly don’t know?’ Hannah narrowed her eyes and shook her head. ‘Hah! Well, it’s a funny story actually,’ Dean said with mock cheer. ‘You see, _Cas_ is right _here_ ,’ he said, setting his hand down on the Impala’s hood and staring hard at Hannah to see if she understood more than she was letting on but the angel seemed utterly clueless.

‘I do not see him,’ she narrowed her eyes further. ‘This is not a _game_ , Dean Winchester. It is a matter of urgency that I speak with him!’

‘Yeah, you and me both,’ Dean muttered before carrying on frustratedly. ‘Trust me, he isn’t playing hide-and-go-seek or nothing. Cas is _here._ _This_ is Cas,’ he tapped the hood for emphasis and Hannah looked between Dean’s face and hand curiously.

‘You mean... the car?’

‘Yes. The _car_. And not just _any_ fucking car – _my_ fucking car! Now c’mon. I need him turned back. Capiche?’

Hannah was opening and closing her mouth much in the same way Dean had only moments ago. Cas was right, she had picked up some human traits in her brief stint on Earth.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Well... to cut a long story short... Missy Magic Fantastic thought she’d use her freaky powers to cook up something a little experimental.’ When Hannah continued to look blank, Dean rolled his eyes and extenuated. ‘Witchy style.’

‘Oh. Oh, I see...’

‘Yeah, exactly. So can you switch him back?’

‘No.’

‘I’m sorry. What?’

‘I can’t turn him back. It is clearly a very powerful transformative spell, seeing as I couldn’t even recognize his angelic print on the car. There is no trace of his grace anywhere near it.’

‘Huh. So then... now what...?’

‘We’re running short of time. We need to return you to your normal time soon or the fabric of time itself will be disrupted and that could endanger everyone on the planet. I suggest we get the witch who cast the spell to turn him back. I doubt anyone else would be able to reverse it anyway – it’ll have her magical signature running right through the spell work.’

‘Right, makes sense,’ Dean said, secretly acknowledging that he hadn’t understood a word Hannah had just said. ‘Hey, you,’ Dean spoke loudly, crouching down besides the witch. ‘Anyone in there?’ the witch gave a pathetic moan. ‘What’s that? Too many hits with the fist? Well tough luck, it’s time to rise and shine.’ The woman managed to raise her head slightly and spitted spitefully in Dean’s direction.

‘Fuck you,’ was all she managed to get out before her head sunk back to the ground.

‘Uh, gross. C’mon!’ Dean nudged her shoulder with his foot. ‘We’re on a deadline here...’ his words petered out as the woman on the floor chuckled throatily to herself. ‘Something amusing you. Care to share?’ Dean looked to Hannah as though to say; _can you believe this?_ But she just looked back at him impatiently as though this was somehow Dean’s fault. Well, he had been the one to knock her out, so... yeah...

‘You want me to lift the spell? Break the enchantment? Reverse the magic?’ she cackled into the floor.

‘Yeah, one of those will do,’ Dean said somewhat warily.

‘Not gonna happen.’

‘Yeah? Why’s that?’

‘Irreversible.’

Dean stared at her for a second, the gears churning in his head as he tried to find an alternative meaning. ‘What’s that now?’

‘The spell c _an’t_ be broken, you moron. I specifically worked it into the spell.’

‘I’m not buying it,’ Dean said deadpan. ‘Ain’t no spell or curse irreversible that I’ve ever heard of – you’re talking to a _previous_ owner of the Mark of Cain. And some backstreet witch like you wouldn’t be capable of something that powerful even if it did exist.’

The witch just smirked up at Dean, neither confirming nor denying anything.

‘Shit!’ he swivelled on the spot, staring pleadingly at Hannah. ‘Now what?’

‘Time is pressing, Dean Winchester. If I don’t return you to your correct time soon-‘

‘Yeah, yeah... I get it. Can’t you _make_ her give us the reversal spell? Read her mind or something?’

Hannah frowned. ‘She was speaking the truth, Dean Winchester. Or at least a partial truth. She does not know how to undo the spell. Torture or coercion wouldn’t yield advanced results.’

Dean stared from her to the witch and then into the middle distance as his thoughts raced in turmoil. ‘How long’ve we got?’

‘Maybe an hour, at most.’ I cannot give you more than that. I could take you both back, you and the witch. That would give you all the time you need to find a solution.’ Hannah suggested.

‘And the car too, right?’ but Dean already knew the answer. He was just grasping desperately at straws now.

‘No, Dean.’ Hannah said solemnly. ‘The car would have to stay in this time. It is too big and heavy to move easily through the fabric of time. Time travel is hard enough without involving cumbersome machinery.’

‘Oh, c’mon!’ Dean snapped angrily, even though it was the answer he’d expected. He felt like he was being thwarted at every turn. ‘It’s not _just_ machinery! It’s _Cas_!’ and he was beginning to panic now. His life as he’d known it spiralling into a different reality. ‘We can’t just _leave_ him here!’ he cast his gaze around the deserted factory, thinking hard. As soon as he’d seen the angel transform, he’d somehow known it was coming to this.

He looked up at Hannah pleadingly. ‘I might have an idea.’

Dean explained his thought process to Hannah. The whole thing was so absurd, Dean’s head hurt just thinking about it but Hannah didn’t seem to have any trouble catching on.

‘Very well. If it can be done quickly, that should be fine. I can’t give you much more than an hour.’

Dean didn’t wait for a second confirmation. He was opening the car door and sliding behind the wheel, calling out to Hannah. ‘You keep an eye on her while I’m gone,’ he nodded over to the semi-conscious witch and Hannah nodded back once in acknowledgement.

Dean started up the engine, trying really hard not to think that he was technically sat inside his best friend. I mean, how did that even work? He pulled out of the factory and took the road East towards central Lawrence.

Ten minutes later, Dean parked up outside Rainbow Motors. Another five minutes and he was talking to the manager.

‘You sure you wanna sell her?’ he was saying.

‘Yeah; Believe me, I won’t need her where I’m going.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ he seemed reluctant; maybe it had something to do with the quick sell or because he was getting a bargain. ‘I feel guilty taking her off your hands for such a low price; she’s such a beauty!’

‘Yeah... yeah, she is...’

‘Looks almost like new. But definitely a ’67. You looked after her damn well.’

‘It’s fine. Honestly.’

‘You got any ID on yeh?’

Dean pulled out one of his fake badges. The name _Sal Moriarty_ written across the front.’

‘Hooey! That’s some fancy ID you got yourself there,’ and Dean remembered they wouldn’t have had anything like this is 1973. The manager didn’t seem to mind though. ‘Mind if I give her a once over before I get yeh cash?’

‘Be my guest,’ Dean answered but he actually felt his skin crawl as the manager lifted up her hood. _She won’t be in his hands for long_ , he reminded himself. He checked her inside too and in the trunk. It was strange seeing her sans demon-trap. She looked bare and strange, like when you first take down Christmas decorations at the beginning of the year... Dean could feel himself growing melancholy.

‘You the religious type?’

‘What?’

‘Found this in her trunk,’ the man handed over a small bible. The old kind with thin, almost see-through pages and a dark leather binding.

‘Oh, yeah... right... I –uh -give them out to the poor.’ _What? Why did he say that?_

‘Well, if that’s all, Mr Moriarty. I’ll fetch your cash from the safe.’ The man walked back into the garage, leaving Dean to thumb absentmindedly through the pages of the bible. _Figures there’d be one of these things in the trunk of an angel..._

The owner returned with a small bundle of cash that would be pretty useless in Dean’s own time. He took it in exchange for the keys anyway, reluctantly placing them in the manager’s hand.

He walked away but watched from a distance as the manager stuck up a price over the windscreen which was well over what he’d just given Dean. It was only moments later that a very young John Winchester appeared besides the car. Dean carried on watching as another Dean Winchester approached him. It was possibly the weirdest thing he’d ever seen and he’d seen some pretty weird stuff: his _slightly_ younger self coercing his _way_ younger father into buying _his_ car.

‘It’s been nearly an hour,’ said a voice over his shoulder.

Dean turned to stare at Hannah, who was gripping the wretched looking witch by the arm. ‘I had to make sure he was in safe hands,’ he said, defending himself.

‘And is he?’

Dean turned to look back at the young John Winchester who was smiling down at the Impala. ‘Yeah. Yeah, he really is...’

‘Then it’s time to go,’ Hannah said, before pressing two fingers to the center of Dean’s forehead.

 

 

 


	6. It's All in the Mechanics

When Dean opened his eyes again, he was standing in the bunker. 'Dean? What- Hannah? Who's this?' Sam's questions came thick and fast but Dean's brain was feeling scrambled, his temples working up a pulse as he was hit by an intense, throbbing headache. _Ah, the beauty of time travel..._

'What's going on?' Sam's latest question cut through the fog but, Dean realized, he was now addressing Hannah, having apparently given up on Dean.

Hannah hesitated before answering him. 'This is a witch who caused a problem forty-two years ago. Dean needs her here, for questioning, I believe.'

'Okay. Where's Cas? And why’ve you got a bible?' he looked down at the small book engraved with a crucifix in Dean’s hands before glancing between Hannah and Dean, both seemingly reluctant to answer. 

'He didn't make it,' Dean muttered after a few seconds silence.

'He didn't... no. No - I don't believe it!' It wasn't just the shock talking, he genuinely didn't believe it. Something about Dean's behaviour suggested he wasn't being entirely honest.

'Fuck, I need to sit down,' Dean groaned, swaying on the spot.

'I must leave, heaven needs me. You should rest; time travel is not very human friendly.'

'You're telling me, ' Dean muttered but Hannah was already gone. Sam helped Dean to a chair where he slumped down, pushing his face against his fist as he tried to regain control of himself. He knew that this was more than just the shock of time travel - he'd done  _that_ before - it was the shock of what he'd just learnt, everything he'd known turning upside down. 

Well, not  _everything..._ just every memory he had pertaining to his car... which was actually quite a lot... 

He'd been through a lot with that car.

He'd been through a lot with Cas and he hadn't even known him for  _half_  the amount of time... except that now he knew he had... He'd never get over it. They were one and the same. The car  _was_ Cas.

How the fuck was he supposed to wrap his mind around that?

And to think Cas had been living (if it could even be called  _living)_ like that for forty-odd  _years!_

'Dean?' Sam's voice cut like steel through his tangled mess of thoughts. 

'Yeah?' he half gasped, half laughed - 'cause how the fuck was he supposed to explain this to Sam? It was too completely messed up, even for them. He couldn't do it. 

'Dean... Where's Cas?'

Dean made a peculiar noise that could have been a giggle but was muffled by a choke. 

'Fuck, Dean! Don't  _do_  this to me! I know you said he didn't make it but you can't mean- Dean?' The elder Winchester had stood up suddenly, a manic expression on his normally calm face but he wasn't looking at Sam. He was looking at the crumpled mess on the floor that was the witch.

'I... I just need to do somethin',' he said and it was the only explanation he gave. The sudden blood rush to his head made him feel like he was about to pass out and he swayed dangerously on the spot as his eyes momentarily fogged over. He grabbed the witch by the arm, hauling her to her feet and dragging her out of the room.

She leaned heavily against his shoulder as he led her down to the dungeon where he strapped her into the chair. She raised her head, biting back the bitter taste of blood from her cut lip as she smirked across at him.

'You like strapping women down?'

Ordinarily Dean might have bitten back with some witty remark like: _'only on Tuesdays'_ or _'nah,_ I _prefer to be the one strapped down'_ but he really wasn't in the mood. He felt shaken up and pretty damn desperate. So he just shook his head, stood back and threw down his no nonsense stare.

'The reversal spell. Pronto.'

She just smirked again. 'Damn you're predictable. But no can do, handsome. One word: i-rre-ver-sa-ble!' she finished with relish.

'Do you get off on being annoying?' 

She smirked again; apparently it was her trademark look. 'Maybe.'

Dean shook his head in disgust. 

'Look, I really don't care. Whatever floats your boat. But I need to change Cas back  _now!'_

'Special angel, was he?'

'Shut up.'

'Wow. You really have it bad, don't you?'

'I dunno what you're talking about.' Dean answered, automatically defensive. 

The witch just smiled, 'Course you don't. But it really doesn't matter either way. There's nothing I can do. The spell was written so it wouldn't have a counter-spell. It’s all in the mechanics,’ she said with a smirk. ‘So you might as well let me go.'

'Not gonna happen.'

 'Okay. Fine. Keep me down here for fifty years, torture me if you like. It won't make any difference. I can't turn your friend back.'

'Who can?'

The witch actually seemed to think about that one before she answered. 'So far as I know? Nobody. But he was an angel, right? The spell wasn't meant for an angel. It was meant for you.'

'Too bad you've got a bad aim.'

'Indeed,' she didn't seem even vaguely offended. If anything, she was agreeing with him. 'Then again... if I'd got  _you_ I'd probably have an angel gruelling me for answers right now instead and I imagine that could get pretty unpleasant... Maybe he could break the spell himself.'

'No way.'

'It's only a suggestion.'

'Cas has been a frigging car now for more than  _forty years_. If he could break the spell himself, he'd have done it by now.'

'Maybe,' the witch agreed thoughtfully. 'Or maybe he's just not had enough motivation.' 

Dean stared hard at her. 'He's a car!' he said slowly, his anger and frustration beginning to bubble over. 'How the fuck...  _what_ the fuck, motivates a car?'

'Don't ask me. I don't know a lot about motors.'

Dean had heard enough. He slammed the doors behind him, without so much as glancing back at her. He could hear her shouting after him though. ‘Hey! HEY! YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME DOWN HERE!' But oh, Dean could. 

He went back up to the map room where Sam was still sat waiting patiently for him with raised eyebrows. 

'So here's the deal. And you don't get to ask questions.' Sam opened his mouth to object but Dean held up a firm hand. 'No, Sam. It's  _this_ or  _nothing!'_ Sam thought for a second and then gave a quick nod. 'I went back in time. Cas turned up. As usual he saved  _my_ life and as usual, it screwed things up pretty badly for  _him._ Now he's gone. End of story.' And to ensure Sam didn't get to ask any questions (or worse,  _console him,_ shudder) he stormed from the room and didn't stop walking until he reached his room, barricading the door behind him.

He stood there, breathing heavily for a minute, trying to regain his composure. He had the violent urge to break something, smash something up and release all this frustration. He tried to clench his fists and realized he was still carrying the miniature bible in one hand.

Just like that, he knew what he had to do.

Dean quietly made his way down to the garage (not wanting Sam to come after him).

And there she was.  _He,_  Dean corrected himself and wasn't _that_ weird? He'd always referred to his car using female pronouns but Cas had always seemed extraordinarily  _male._ Dean knew that if Cas was here right now (or rather, if he could  _speak_ right now) he'd say something about angels being genderless anyways.

She was looking all shiny and clean, the pristine black paint practically gleaming under the bright garage lights.  _His_ 1967 Chevy Impala. Right where he'd left her before taking a trip into the past.

He found himself thinking how ironic it was that he’d once built the Impala up near enough from scratch. That had been after the accident with the demon and the truck. Put every little piece of her back together. Painted over every scratch. Fixed her up, gave her back her shine until she ran like new. That had been Cas all along. Cas who he was mending and caring for and pouring all that love into.

And he wondered if it had been like that for Cas when he’d pulled Dean out of hell. Rebuilding his body from the ground up, putting his soul back together... until Dean was like new. Until he climbed out of that grave with every scar healed...

Had he poured as much love into Dean as Dean had into the Impala? Given it all he had?

Knowing Cas like Dean did, he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that – Cas didn’t do anything by halves.

He ran a trembling hand over her hood before popping open the trunk. The demon trap was painted over the top, slightly faded with age and all the hunting paraphernalia was stored beneath it. He made a small space near the back and nestled the mini bible into it; now it was back where it belonged...

Dean closed the trunk gently before getting into the driver's seat and closing the door behind him. 'I know now,' he gasped out, feeling sharp pricks of heat in the corners of his eyes. 'I know now and... and I'm sorry. I'm  _so_ sorry!' he let his head fall to the steering wheel, his tears dripping over the leather as he repeated over and over again, 'I'm sorry... I'm sorry...'

 

 

 


	7. Automatic Systematic

Time slowly began to slip away from the Winchesters, like the road behind a car on an open highway... before they had even realized it, a month had gone by... then two...

Not a lot had changed for Sam since his brother had gone back in time and returned to the present, sans angel. _His_ life was barely dissimilar.  He looked for hunts, did his research and then Dean took a hold of the wheel as they tracked down the latest sons of bitches to attract their attention.

He tried to find out information about the demons who had waylaid them on the road that day but it was like they had disappeared without a trace. Never a good omen.

The one thing he did find wasn’t exactly difficult to come across – headline news the very next day: A family run farm, only a few miles from the nearest town. Every single family member vanished, including five year old Millie Cornhouse who loved horse riding and had won her first rosette the previous week... there had been a picture and everything; there was no mistaking those blonde curls and clear blue eyes but there’d been no sign of that heartwarming smile when Sam and Dean had met her. It had been replaced instead with a vacant expression that they should have realized sooner practically screamed _demon_.

The only evidence found at the farm was a couple of empty shotguns and a scattering of used bullets. Further searches had revealed nothing and police were stumped (big surprise.)

So Sam’s life had carried on much the same, though he kept his eyes peeled and ears open, as normal. As for the other Winchester... Sam barely saw him, except for hunts and even then he barely talked. He seemed to have lost his sense of humor, his appetite and any interest in pretty much _anything_.

Twice a day he went down to the dungeon to give the witch fresh food and water but, as far as Sam could tell, he seemed to have given up questioning her. He’d taken to spending a _lot_ of time with his car, Sam had noticed. Cleaning her, needlessly tinkering under her hood and taking her for long drives to god knows where, coming back looking worse than when he left, red eyed and shaky, often stumbling, half-drunk. Sam knew he’d started drinking again the very day he got back from 1973. Hadn’t even needed to check for the empty whisky bottles littering his unusually untidy bedroom. He’d grown more careless on hunts too, more risky...

Sam figured he knew what it was. Dean was obviously mourning Cas, which was perfectly understandable given their history,but incredibly frustrating because he wouldn’t talk about it. It was like his return from Purgatory all over again...

 

 

 

Dean knew Sam was worried about him. He just honestly didn’t have the energy to care.

It was true that he was spending a lot of alone time with his car and it must have been a whole lot more than usual or Sam wouldn’t have noticed. He’d even questioned _himself_ about it a couple of times. Why was he doing this? What was the point? It wasn’t going to achieve anything... but still he did it. He felt a sort of stillness as soon as he caught sight of her; when he was driving along, fixing her up or even giving her a good old wax... that was pretty much the only time he ever felt any kind of peace.

Sam questioned him too, of course.

‘Where are you going? Where’ve you been? What’re you doing?’

His ‘little’ brother might be suspicious but Dean wasn’t too worried about him figuring it out – the truth was too absurd, even for them.

And Dean didn’t have an answer for him anyway, or at least, not an answer that would have satisfied him. Sometimes he might say, ‘Nowhere,’ just to fill the endless silence. It wasn’t an answer, not really. Not the kind of answer that Sam wanted to hear, anyway.

Not one he could possibly understand.

But it was the truth, or the best truth he could give. Because he never did have a destination in mind when he set off on one of his long drives. He just knew he needed to get out, needed to hear the roar of her engine and feel the wind whipping through her window as he stared off down another endless road, entirely focused on what lay ahead but without really having to think too hard about it because, after so many years living on the road, driving for miles day after day, it came so naturally to him. Easy as breathing.

It hadn’t always been that way. He remembered when he first learned to drive her, how he’d sometimes stall like any learner. How he often forgot to check his mirrors. How he panicked once when a truck pulled out in front of him. And damn it if he couldn’t crack the frigging parallel park... but he’d picked it up faster than most...

And now his baby’s wheel fit so comfortably under his hands, almost like the leather had molded to the shape of his palms...

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when there was no traffic in sight, he would pull her up in a deserted field or by the side of a road. If it was a clear night he might get out from behind the wheel and stretch out over her hood, looking up at the stars...

And if sometimes he maybe started to talk, it was only that he was talking to himself in an absent minded sort of way... it wasn’t like he was talking to his _car_ , I mean... that would be crazy, right?

But still, he hoped Cas could somehow _hear_ him, _understand_ him.

He’d talk about the weather or what kind of day he’d had (always negative), how the latest hunt had gone and what kind of monsters he’d ganked this time. His latest grievance with Sam; the guy just had one too many bottles of shampoo, okay.

Once or twice, remembering the witch’s words, he’d find himself saying _more_.

‘Hey, Cas... you in there? Got your ears on? Could you maybe just turn yourself _back_ , please? Could something just be this _simple_ for once? I don’t care, angel or human, whatever... just- come back.’

The memory of Gabriel turning Sam into his car that time when he made them live life in TV land made him wonder if Gabriel had known Cas was his car all along and that had been his idea of a joke. He was an archangel after all. Maybe he’d been able to sense Cas there where Hannah had not. He briefly contemplated whether Gabriel would be able to switch Cas back until he remembered that Gabriel was dead and the whole tv land thing had just been illusionary anyway so it probably wouldn’t have made a difference.

He remembered that one time he and Sam went to Heaven after Roy and Walt shot them in their motel room. He remembered speaking to Cas over the car radio; thinking he was dreaming and then realizing at that moment what had really happened: _‘I’m dead,’_ he’d said. _‘Condolences,’_ came Cas’s gruff reply through the speakers.

Maybe he’s hoping for something a bit like that; even though he knows that, after all these years, something like that must surely be impossible... and of course, he’s right. There’s never an answer. Nothing at all.

It didn’t stop him trying though. Another time it was: ‘Cas. C’mon buddy... you gotta come back!’

A third time: ‘Cas! Just change back already. I _need_ you here, okay... I need you...’

There was still no answer from the stationary and painfully inanimate vehicle. Dean was driven to tears again, thinking back to the last time he’d said those words. And how, despite the obvious difference in Cas’s physical appearance, his outwards response was pretty much the same...

 

 

 

Dean was ill. Nothing serious, but he had definitely picked up some kind of bug. He couldn’t hunt in his current condition, not when he spent at least half of his time retching over the toilet basin. Yeah, that would be dangerous for everybody. So he resigned himself grumpily to his room. Or the bathroom, whichever was more suitable at the time.

Sam sat at his laptop in the library, searching out possible solo hunts, but not a lot was coming up. He came across one thing which sounded like witchcraft but later dismissed it as over exaggeration on the part of the single teenaged witness, stupidity on the part of the journalist who wrote it and a newspaper choosing to foolishly print nonsense, building up hype on what was otherwise a slow news day.

The possible witchcraft got him thinking about the witch down in their dungeon. He’d only seen her once, that time when Hannah had first brought her here and he’d barely heard a word about her since. But she was still there, or at least he assumed so, since Dean hadn’t stopped taking food down. He wouldn’t put it past his brother to have got rid of her and then kept up the pretense just to avoid answering questions.

Sam wasn’t entirely sure why they were keeping her locked down in their dungeon at all, if she was of no possible help to them. He had assumed she was to blame for Cas’s death but why then would Dean choose to keep her alive? He half worried that he’d taken up the knife again but he’d never once heard her scream or even talk loudly, so torture seemed unlikely.

Sam had wanted to question her himself for some time but Dean had always been ready for him, sending him packing before he’d even opened the dungeon door. ‘My business, Sammy,’ he’d say casually and Sam, not wanting to needlessly cause trouble, would leave it at that.

But now Dean was safely out of the way and otherwise occupied and Sam had nothing better to do. Curiosity got the better of him and so, despite knowing his brother would disapprove, he made his way down to the dungeon, pushing open the doors and standing back to survey the room.

His mouth dropped open. This certainly wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

The witch had been a mess when she’d first arrived, a crumpled heap on the floor. Sam had barely looked twice at her.

Now she was sat up, handcuffed to a chair, tall and proud and looking for all the world like she was sat on her throne. She was incredibly dark and incredibly beautiful, her smooth complexion surpassing chocolate, almost ebony. She was wearing plain clothing, but her eyes glittered green in the dark. And yeah, maybe Sam found her a little bit attractive. Just a little bit.

She seemed as surprised to see Sam as Sam was to see her, but she quickly got over the shock, narrowing her eyes and speaking to him in a melodic tone. ‘You’re the brother.’ It wasn’t a question.

Sam could feel his arms hanging aimlessly at his sides, feeling suddenly self-conscious and not really knowing what to do with his lanky frame. Should he cross his arms maybe? He tried it, but it didn’t really work for him so he unfolded them again and tried to look intimidating, which wasn’t exactly easy when he had to keep reminding himself to use his upper brain. He rocked backwards on his feet. ‘Mmm... yeah... that’d be me...’ he stammered stupidly, his voice rising a notch higher than normal. ‘Um... Dean’s ill, so...’

‘So I finally get some other company,’ she said, her eyes widening delightedly; the light shining on that brilliant green looking dramatic in the dim room.  ‘Yay,’ she said with mock enthusiasm but Sam wasn’t fooled. It probably really was a relief to see another human after so long.

‘You mind if I ask you some questions?’

The witch looked bored now and she averted her eyes from Sam’s, staring down at the floor instead.

‘If they’re anything like your... err, ‘big’ brother’s questions, then I doubt you’ll like the answers.’

‘What does he ask you about?’ the witch seemed surprised, her eyes flickering back to Sam.

She gave him an amused smirk, ‘He hasn’t told you?’

‘No. D’you-‘ and he hesitated here because asking this question really felt like going behind Dean’s back. ‘D’you know what happened to Cas?’ the witch raised her eyebrows.

‘He hasn’t even told you _that_ much?’

‘No.’

‘Interesting... well...’ It was her turn to hesitate. ‘That’s really _his_ story to tell.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Yes.’ Sam was more surprised than ever. He hadn’t expected her to keep his brother’s secrets when he had been keeping her locked up in a dungeon for nigh on three months.

‘Okay... ‘kay... So, who are _you_ anyway?’

‘Me?’

‘Yeah... how’d you come into this?’

Her eyes drifted unfocused again as she began to answer. ‘My name is Aurelia Goldsmith. I come from 1973. I was contracted by a group of angels because I’d been practicing experimental witchcraft and they thought they might use my skills to their advantage.’

‘Huh... angels... _hired_ you?’

‘Yes. I’d never heard of the true existence of angels before they contacted me – I thought it was all myth and that the angel feathers, rarely mentioned in spells, must really refer to something else. When I realized... I felt very guilty about the whole witchcraft thing. I think they may have helped me on my way with that; I promised to help them in return for their help leading me onto a more ‘righteous’ path,’ she finished bitterly.

‘Of course that’s what they would say,’ Sam said rolling his eyes. ‘Angels are dicks, just FYI.’

‘Your brother has already told me that they are often manipulative beings, that there are many factions of angels and that these ones in particular had grown rebellious for all the _wrong_ reasons. Now I don’t know what to believe...’

‘Believe him,’ Sam said immediately. ‘I would.’

‘This of the brother who purposefully hides information from you?’

And it was Sam’s turn to feel ashamed. ‘Yes. He usually knows what he’s doing, or at least... has good reasons... he’s gonna kill me when he realizes I came down here...’ he muttered the last bit to himself.

‘Perhaps he won’t realize.’

‘He will.’

‘So you agree with him... the angels were using me?’

‘I think so. The angel who led that garrison is dead. I killed him before Cas went back to your time... I can’t believe he’s dead...’ he was only being half sincere, trying to catch Aurelia out. It had the desired effect.

‘Dead? He’s n-‘ she snapped her lips back together, apparently having realized she’d said too much.

‘Not dead? Cas is _not_ dead?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘But you were going to!’

‘No I wasn’t. He _could_ be dead,’ she seemed unsure herself.

Sam felt tied in knots. The euphoria of realizing he’d been right; Cas _was_ alive, tainted by the fact that Dean had actually lied to him or at least allowed him to believe a painful untruth. ‘I thought Dean said Cas was dead... why would he lie about that? If he’s not dead... why else wouldn’t he come back? I don’t understand...’

But Aurelia’s mouth stayed firmly closed this time and Sam doubted she would break so easily again. Instead he offered to accompany her to use the bathroom and she accepted with relief. He waited outside whilst she took a shower, coming back out dressed in the same old clothes and he found himself feeling a little sorry for her. He still wasn’t entirely sure why they were keeping her in their dungeon; she didn’t seem particularly dangerous after all and it must be pretty awful, locked down there, all hours of the day and night, barely able to move. She hadn’t seen sunlight for _months_ and that was probably the least of her concerns...

He thought about talking to Dean about her, convincing him to let her have her own room at least, let her sleep on a bed instead of on that rock hard chair but he doubted he’d acquiesce.

After she’s been firmly handcuffed back to her chair, Sam went up to the kitchen in search of food. Dinner was normally Dean’s thing but Sam knew how to make a _mean_ grilled cheese sandwich. He kindly took one up to Dean, but his brother just moaned and batted him away so he took it down to Aurelia instead. She ate it gratefully whilst Sam stood by watching.

He was reluctant to leave her again. It just seemed so wrong, keeping her trapped down here and also, though he didn’t want to admit it, he was kind of enjoying her company...

‘I’ll... I... I have to go now,’ he finally said and Aurelia nodded, showing no sign of surprise. ‘I... I’ll come back tomorrow,’ her eyes widened, the light from the hall picking up the green in them and making them sparkle again so that Sam had to hold back a gasp. She nodded her head, giving a small smile, but didn’t say anything and Sam closed the dungeon doors behind him.

 

 

 


	8. Testing the Brakes

The next time it happens, Dean is waiting for it.

They were parked up by the side of some woods which bordered a small town where they were working a case. Out of the blue, they were ambushed by half a dozen black dogs. They’d been expecting one.

Outnumbered, Sam and Dean split up, taking the pack near enough fifty-fifty.

Sam manages to lob off a couple of heads but Dean’s not nearly so lucky. He’s run into an area where the ground is distinctly boggy and found himself almost literally stuck in the mud. He clambered towards the nearest trees, searching out firmer ground, all the while hacking left, right and centre as he tried to hold a few of them back at the same time. But inevitably, he falls with an almighty thwack, the sound of something cracking making him grimace with pain and he knows from past experience that he’s dislocated his shoulder. Before he can get back to his feet, he’s bowled over by two more, mouths snarling and gnashing and he thinks, not for the first time that week, _I’m done for_.

He can see the outline of the Impala just a few feet behind them. But like him, Sam’s too far to reach in time. Dean closes his eyes, prepared to take his last breath...

But then there’s a sudden roar as the Impala’s engine comes to life, headlights blaring in full beam and then she’s speeding towards him, taking the black dogs by surprise and mowing them all down like there they’re nothing but stubborn blades of grass.

She comes to a rest in front of a breathless Dean, her lights flickering off and casting his face in shadow as the engine dies out.

He was still lying on the floor, propped up on his elbows and staring up at the car and just knowing that yes; that was doubtlessly his angel in there.

And he’d saved him again.

And sure, last time with the demon girl – that had been pretty weird but this time there was no mistaking what had just happened.

And Sam had witnessed every second of it. He lobbed off one last head, his eyes on his older brother, still lying in the mud. The second the body fell smack in the mud, he was running over. Or attempting to run, the bog slowed him down as he got closer and Dean thought it took him nearly a minute to reach him.

‘Dean! You all right?’

‘Yeah,’ Dean half laughed. ‘Just dislocated my shoulder is all. You give me a hand?’ Sam obliged, hauling him to his feet, and the two brothers turned to stare at the car together.

‘Well that was pretty strange,’ Sam muttered eventually.

‘No shit, Sherlock,’ Dean joked back with a chuckle but Sam was staring at him open-mouthed.

‘Dean,’ he began slowly, as though his brother was obtuse. ‘The car’s engine came on. _By itself.’_

‘I might have left it on,’ Dean tried to shake off Sam’s excitement but it wasn’t working.

‘You _might_ have but you _didn’t_ and you know it. Even if you had, it wouldn’t have started up like that! And I saw the way it accelerated, okay. Only way it should go that fast is if someone pressed down on the gas. _Hard._ ’

Dean nodded along unenthusiastically.

‘And the way it stopped as soon as it was done killing those black dogs. Right in front of you like a friggin’ lapdog-‘

‘Hey!’ Cas was never Dean’s lapdog.

‘You don’t find this bizarre, at all? You don’t think we should maybe look into it?’

‘Why? Dean asked, hobbling over to the driver’s side and opening the door. ‘It’s not doing any harm.’

Sam squinted at him. ‘D’you know something about this that you’re not telling me?’

‘No!’ Dean snapped back a little too fast. ‘No. I get that it’s weird. I just... don’t think we should waste any time on it, is all.’

‘ _Waste time_ ,’ Sam repeated incredulously.

‘Yeah.’

‘By the way, you’re not driving.’

‘Oh, c’mon! It’s only a dislocated shoulder! Driven with one of these bad boys plenty of times. And worse.’ Sam didn’t look impressed so Dean attempted to inject a little humour. ‘At least I know car’s got my back, right?’

Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Whatever, Dean. You’re not driving.’ It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes, but he begrudgingly walked around the front of the car, one hand trailing along the hood in silent thanks, before hopping into the passenger’s side and closing the door carefully behind him.

Sam hadn’t moved. He was staring at Dean through the windshield. Dean shrugged his shoulders as though to say _what?_

‘Took your time,’ was what he actually said when Sam finally climbed in behind the wheel. The younger Winchester ignored him, turning on the engine and backing out of the mud.

‘You would tell me, right?’ Sam said as they pulled off the slip road. ‘If anything else had happened with the car?’

Dean stared ahead. ‘Course I would, Sammy.’ It was a bare faced lie and they both knew it but Sam nodded anyway. There must be a good reason he was keeping this from him.

‘You spend a lot of time with her,’ he tried again, looking for a different approach. ‘Going out for drives and err... fixing her up. Guess I was just wondering if-‘

‘Fuck’s sake. Give it a rest, will you!’ Dean snapped. Sam nodded, deciding it was probably best to leave it there but knowing he wouldn’t rest happy until he’d wheedled more information out of him.

‘You know I chose him- _her_ , right,’ Dean said suddenly. Sam glanced over at him, his face looked a little pinker than usual in the dark of the car, the headlights shining on him just enough for Sam to see. And that was _weird_. Dean had been quick to correct himself but Sam had _never_ known Dean to refer to the Impala as ‘ _him’_ before...

He looked back at the front window. ‘Yeah... yeah, you said... that time you met dad. Before you were even born... man, our lives are weird...’ something began to nag in the back of Sam’s head the second he said it. ‘The first time you time traveled, right?’ Yeah, there was definitely something up with that.

‘Yeah,’ Dean said. ‘The first time. I chose her and dad – he wasn’t gonna buy her, Sammy, but I talked him round.’

‘That’s amazing, Dean.’

‘Yeah... yeah, it really is... time travel is so weird...’

Sam nodded in agreement, trying to concentrate on the road as his preoccupied brain tried to patch all these mismatched pieces together. Nothing made sense; nothing quite fit. It was like he was missing the most important piece of the puzzle.

 

 

 

Later that night Dean found himself tossing and turning in bed, staring into the dark as he recollected everything that had happened that night. He rolled over onto his back, trying to make out the ceiling in the pitch black, eyes wide, pupils blown to maximum as he desperately tried to make a connection between the two times the car had saved his life.

And he thought back even further, over the years. Had there been other times? Had he just never noticed before? Had he just never joined the dots, put it up to coincidence?

It seemed like an impossibility.

But if the car had _always_ been Cas, then what had changed recently to make the car behave this way? Other than him finding out, of course... would that be enough? It must be more than _that_ , surely?

Was it because he’d put the bible back in the trunk? Maybe some crucial element of Cas’s grace was stored in it...

But still, the demon ambush had happened _before_ either of those things, so it didn’t really add up. Maybe it was just because time had finally caught up with itself and a gap had closed up somewhere...

He rolled back over onto his side, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to damp down the rising excitement. Maybe there w _as_ a way to get through to Cas...

Ten minutes later and he was stood in the motel parking lot, squaring off the Impala with a no-nonsense look and a pose which suggested he wouldn’t take any messing around.

‘Cas?’ he asked warily, definitely not expecting any kind of response. It wasn’t exactly the first time he’d talked to the car in the last few months (or the last thirty years even), trying to reach out to the angel, telling him about his day, offloading his worries and every stupid bad thing that was currently happening in his life.

As expected, the car remained stationary and completely silent, but Dean had worked himself into an experimental mood. He was willing tobe patient if there was even the smallest chance...

He got in the car, made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat and tried again. ‘Cas?’ Nothing. Switched on the engine, let her roar to life. ‘Cas?’ Nothing. Dean wasn’t giving up tonight. Not until he yielded some kind of results. He tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully, contemplating taking her for a short drive. Sam had knocked his shoulder back into place the second they’d got back to the motel but it still hurt like a bitch. Not enough to stop him from driving though. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d driven with a lot worse.

The Impala rumbled out of the parking lot, making its way smoothly down the open road. ‘Cas?’ he asked in a clear cut voice as he continued down the road. Still nothing. ‘’Kay...’ Dean said, completely unsurprised but ready to accept the challenge. ‘How ‘bout, _Baby?_ ’ Nothing. ‘Playing hard to get, are we?’ Dean smirked, but he hadn’t really expected that one to work.

‘What if I do this?’ and without so much as an apprehensive blink, he spun the wheel suddenly, slamming on the gas so the car hurtled off the road at seventy miles an hour, heading smack towards a large, ancient looking tree directly in their path.

Dean flinched automatically, already regretting his actions – that kind of impact would really fuck up the Impala’s hood.  But he’d also purposefully neglected to wear his seat belt, meaning the damage to himself would be infinitely worse.

He needn’t have worried. The Impala’s engine died seconds before impact, stopping the car dead in its tracks, just like the time with the demon girl. Dean opened his eyes slowly, giving his surroundings a quick once over. Definitely no demon girls around that he could see, or anyone else for that matter. The tree was just one of many in a small copse by the side of the road. There was nothing behind them but empty fields. Check one.

Dean grinned. ‘ _There_ you are, Cas! Thanks for that by the way – wouldn’t want your hood all messed up now, would we?’ he spoke cheerfully but there was no response from the surrounding vehicle. ‘’Kay, what’s next?’ he thought out loud, wondering if Cas was catching on to what he was up to.

Dean put the car into reverse and backed out onto the empty road again, looking for his next idea as he drove along.

It wasn’t exactly unusual for the Winchesters to go looking for trouble – it was more like a casual lifestyle choice to be honest – but to actually purposefully put himself in a life threatening situation... that was the kind of thing Dean only did when he had nothing left to lose. Okay, maybe not so unusual then...

There was a lake just a few miles away and Dean headed towards it, pushing down on the gas so that he was going at nearly ninety miles an hour. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t even flinch this time, just pushed on desperately. Anyone watching from the outside would have said the driver was on a suicide mission but really, Dean was searching for something that would make life worth living. It was a fine line really, but it was still there.

The black density of the lake loomed before him as the Impala left the road, slowing down slightly as it trundled over the long grass but it was still going too fast to stop. Dean’s face was set in concentration and he put his foot down as much as he could. He expected the engine to give out again and hoping this hadn’t all been in his head and he wasn’t about to plunge into those icy black depths. Instead, seconds before he reached the water’s edge, he lost control of the gear stick. It locked into reverse and the car went hurtling backwards at ninety miles an hour.

The engine gave a fantastically loud grumbling sound and then gave out entirely.

Dean sat shocked in his seat, breaths coming out fast and heavy.

‘Well that got your attention,’ he muttered eventually. He hadn’t been expecting a response but to his surprise the engine came on again, letting out a roar that shook the car for a couple of seconds.

The message was clear; Cas disapproved of Dean’s tactics.

‘Fine,’ Dean muttered. ‘Enough. For today,’ he added as an afterthought. The engine roared again; clearly someone was annoyed. ‘Y’know what, fuck you Cas!’ Dean burst out feeling pretty damn angry himself. ‘I _need_ to know you’re okay, Cas. I _need_ to talk to you. I – I need _you_!’ There was no response this time and Dean smacked the dashboard in frustration before making his way back to the motel, chuntering away to himself and hoping Cas somehow knew that he was in bad books.

 

 

 


	9. Sex Drive

A few days later, Dean thought he saw Cas.

Not just car-Cas but Cas as he’d always known him – rocking Jimmy Novak’s vessel.

He was stood in a crowded bar somewhere in Kansas City. It’d been just a random bar stop on the way home from a hunt and one that Dean was eager to make, to get lost in the sea of people and forget his sucky life for five minutes. Sam was on a separate hunt, somewhere south of Wichita, and wasn’t due back till the following morning.

He was just downing his first shot of whiskey when he saw the familiar mop of dark hair at the other end of the bar, nestled amidst a crowd of strange faces. He couldn’t see Cas’s face, just a little of his profile, the lights from the bar casting a warm glow over his bristly jaw line and Dean’s breath caught in his throat, his heart thudding just a little too hard. He sat staring unabashedly at the man, his heart beating out a staccato against his chest, knowing it couldn’t be Cas, it was impossible and then the guy turned, laughing at something his friend had said and Dean saw that it was definitely _not_ Cas.

And Dean felt his heart plummet down to his stomach, leaving nothing but a raw empty feeling in his chest.

From this angle, the man didn’t look anything like Cas and Dean would never have mistaken him if he’d seen him like this first. His nose was sharper, his lips fuller and his eyes contrastingly dull compared with Cas’s impossibly blue ones.

Dean stared at him for a while longer, a heavy sadness settling in on him as he thought; in all his life, he had _never_ felt so _alone._

The group of friends that included the dark haired man were talking and laughing and just looking incredibly carefree, in a way that Dean had no memory of ever being.

The woman behind the bar who had served him earlier spoke to him suddenly, pulling him out of his apathetic funk.

‘He doesn’t swing that way.’

‘Wh-what?’

‘Louis. He’s a friend of mine. And he’s not gay.’

‘Okay,’ Dean really didn’t know how to respond to this seemingly random piece of information he’d just had thrown at him.

‘You’ve been checking him out for the past twenty minutes now.’

Dean stared at the bartender, looked back round at the dark haired man and then back to the bartender again, feeling a little bewildered and something close to trapped. He’d been caught off guard, embarrassed and irritated, so his usual smart remarks failed him as he helplessly tried to explain himself. ‘I’m not... I wasn’t, I mean...’ Dean grew increasingly flustered as he attempted to speak coherently.

‘Not what? Not gay? Not checking out my friend? Not-‘

‘I’m just not... not interested in him like that, _okay._ ’ Dean interrupted her, finally getting the right words out. ‘I just... thought he looked like someone I used to know.’

‘Huh,’ the woman responded contemplatively, clearly skeptical. ‘You’re not interested in _him_ that way?’ she repeated.

‘No,’ Dean agreed, relief that he had circumnavigated himself out of that misunderstanding letting him relax.

‘But you are interested in guys,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘I was gonna drop you my number but then I figured you were gay, so...’ she moved off down the bar without apology, leaving Dean gawping after her. Okay, she was rude... but that was the first time he hadn’t denied it _outright._

Not that he _was_ gay. And this he would always maintain. He loved women, always had and he was sure that was never going to change. But yeah, so maybe he’d always had a thing for guys too... and maybe it had taken him a _long_ time to come to terms with that. Thirty-six years to be exact.

But he remembers back in school, he’d have crushes on boys as often as he would girls. He remembers all the temptations he’s faced down over the years. The propositions he’s turned down to maintain his stubborn heterosexuality.

He remembers the million and one times he’s tried (and failed) to squash male based fantasies from his mind. Like every time he’s having a private moment in the shower. Or heavily breathing under the thin, standard-issue sheets in a dirty motel room. How he would look around, guiltily, paranoid that somehow Sam (or, going further back, his dad) would know exactly what he was doing and worse, exactly what he was thinking about.

More recently ( _very_ recently) he’d begun to accept that part of himself. To push away the shame he was accustomed to. Even to take pleasure in that part of himself. He was taking it slowly, _very slowly_. But fantasies weren’t flat out denied or rejected anymore and he’d even started to work his way into sexier territory...

So yeah, he sometimes had a thing about guys. But mostly, he had a thing about Cas.

Dean stared across the bar, eyeing the amber filled bottles hanging from the wall in front of him, wondering exactly what it was the bartender had picked up on. Whether there was something he was doing that had given it away – or was it literally just because he’d been staring at that guy. Dean supposed his gaze had been a little intense.

He wondered if he was _that_ obvious. That even a random stranger could seemingly pick up on it. Maybe Sam knew... maybe he’d known for years... maybe he’d always known... But if he did know, how come he’d never said anything about it? Did that mean he didn’t have an issue with it? Or did it mean he wasn’t bothered about it so long as Dean wasn’t acting on it, or talking about it?

He was in an obstinate mood, the bartender’s words cutting into him like some kind of challenge and he felt a need to prove himself, or deny himself, depending on how you looked at it.

There were quite a few women in the bar. He could probably get lucky if he really wanted. But did he actually want to? He hadn’t for quite a while...

On the other side of the bar, a woman was sat on her own. Dean supposed she was kind of cute, with her short dark hair and bright red lipstick. He sidled over to her. ‘Hey,’ he smirked across at her.

‘Hey, yourself,’ she smirked back, looking him up and down appraisingly.

‘What you drinkin’?’ he asked and after that it was just a matter of time. She was clearly interested, in a not so serious kind of way.

Half-an-hour later had them outside with Dean pressing her up against the wall, sucking soft bruises into her neck and feeling her groan beneath his fingers. Dean allowed her to spin him around so that now _he_ was pressed up against the wall, using her tongue to kiss some kind of magic number into his mouth and it was so incredibly hot and her fingers were sliding down to cup at his crotch and Dean’s eyes flew open, zoning in on the taillights of the Impala in the parking lot.

And that was it. That was all it took and, not for the first time in this situation, Dean found himself thinking about Cas.

About kissing Cas like this, _feeling_ Cas like this. And he could feel himself growing more and more aroused with every passing second and then he was kissing her back with an intensity he hadn’t been feeling seconds ago, his cock pressing up hard and painful against the rough inside of his jeans. He could feel himself getting carried away with the fantasy and, before he let it overtake him entirely, he forced himself to stop kissing, hands on her shoulders and gently pushing her away. He looked away, glanced towards the ground, wiping at his mouth, feeling like he’d been deceitful to himself as well as deceitful to her.

‘What?’ she asked, staring at him wide eyed. ‘What’s wrong?’

Dean couldn’t keep the pained expression from his face as he tried his best to explain. ‘I- I can’t... I just... I can’t...’ she eyed him contemplatively but didn’t say anything, obviously waiting for a better explanation; if only Dean had one to give her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he finished lamely. She nodded her head but didn’t say anything, just straightened up her clothes before turning on her heel and marching curtly back into the bar, clearly hurt. Dean had wanted to explain that it was nothing personal – she seemed great - he was just too fucked up was all, but he knew that wouldn’t make this any better for her anyway so he just watched her go.

And then it was just left to him to make his way back to his car, slamming the door unnecessarily behind him and letting his head fall with a thunk to the steering wheel.

Eventually he found the mentality to drive back to the bunker. He pulled the Impala into the garage and slammed on the brakes, tears streaming across his cheeks.

‘You know what, Cas? Fuck you! Talk about a frigging life ruiner. All I wanted was to get laid, some quick meaningless sex but oh no, as usual you come striding into my brain and settle down like you own the place.’ And at this point in his rant, Dean was nearly in tears; the words coming out shakily as he gasped through his anger. ‘You’ve left me. You fucking left me. Again. But you’re never gonna get out of my head are you?’

He went through what had happened again that night, trying to figure out where exactly it had gone so badly wrong. And he recalled again the moment he had started imagining it was Cas he was kissing, Cas he was _feeling_. Cas with his very human, very male body and before he knew it the anger had given way to sadness and he was letting out a tiny, involuntary whimper. Seeing the angel in all his glory but still with that stupid messy sex hair he always seemed to have. With those long slender fingers and those chapped pink lips and –oh, fuck- he was hard again.

He closed his eyes, letting his thoughts unwind, undressing Cas in his mind. There’d be the trench – that would be the first thing to go, yeah, and then he might entertain himself as he slowly undid those shirt buttons, letting his fingers drift over firm tan skin and fine black hairs and maybe pressing himself face forward into his chest, licking teasingly over a pert nipple... ‘Ungh,’ Dean muttered aloud, realizing for the first time that his hands had snaked down to cup at his cock, pressing up against his zipper. He undid his fly, letting his hand slip inside and feeling his hardness through his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed with relief. He needed this so badly right now.

He remembered he was sat in the Impala. And the Impala was technically Cas. And yeah, maybe it was a bit weird, getting off to thoughts of his best friend in this particular vehicle, but he’d done worse things in the car and it wasn’t like cars could feel uncomfortable, right?

If they could, he was pretty sure that one time he fucked Anna on the back seat would have made Cas way more uncomfortable than what he was doing now. It wasn’t exactly the first time he’d jacked off in the car. Not even the first time he’d done it, sat right there, to thoughts of Cas. But yeah, this was the first time when _he_ was in the know.

So yeah, maybe it was a little weird, but fuck that. His best friend had been turned into his family car. His whole life was weird.

Just to cover himself, he found himself speaking to Cas again. ‘Look, if this is weirdfor you or... or whatever... just, I dunno... let me know somehow. Eject me from my seat or somethin’.’ He was only half joking.

He resumed his fantasy, picking up where he had left off. Imagining what it would be like to suck sharp kisses into Cas’s amazing runner’s thighs. To run his tongue along the waistband of his boxers... for Cas to watch him with his wide eyed innocence, breath hitched as he took in everything Dean was doing.

Or better, imagining a not so innocent Castiel, pressing him up against a wall, feeling the hardness of his body, strong and powerful against him and just letting him take control.

His hand was working up a steady pump around the base of his cock, his eyes pinched closed as he imagined Cas doing this to him, fast and steady and perfect. Running his thumb up over the slit at the top, sliding the precum around the head. ‘Fu-uuck!’ and Dean almost came apart right then but he gripped his cock firmly at the base, eyes darting open as he tried to hold himself together for a few more minutes. ‘Fuck, Cas,’ he said out loud. ‘So good. You’d be so good for me...’ and with that the Impala’s engine started up, roaring to life in such a way that Dean wondered for a moment if this was Cas’s way of saying he’d gone too far but the rumble of the engine beneath his ass wasn’t doing anything to discourage him. If anything, he found himself reveling in the vibrating sensation, raising his hips up slightly so he could pull his boxers down and pressing his bare ass back up against the seat until he could feel it vibrating up into just the right spot, buzzing sensations tingling against his hole and okay, yeah, that was pretty damn hot in a kind of freaky way. Seemed like car-Cas wanted to join in, or at least that’s how Dean chose to interpret it. ‘Fuck, Cas! So good,’ and with his words the engine rumbled a little louder, the vibrating sensation a little stronger. Dean’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he found himself overwhelmed.

He could feel himself teetering on the edge and then the image that Dean had been saving till last, popped unbidden into his head. Cas fucking into him, feeling his (and Dean let his overactive imagination go wild at this point) long hard cock thrusting deep into him, filling him up entirely. Dean worked one, then two, then three saliva slicked fingers up into his hole with practiced ease, scissoring them apart, loving the burn of not giving himself time to adjust; just moving them up and down, relishing the way his fingers slipped in and out and the feel of them pressing into him and trying to simultaneously pump his cock but he was falling apart now so the movement was sloppy and uneven and the Impala was practically growling beneath him as Dean pushed past the edge, orgasming harder than he had ever before – cum shooting warm, thick white streaks across the steering wheel as Dean practically lost consciousness.

Well _that_ had to be the best wank of all time.

A minute or so later, Dean’s fuzzy thoughts came into focus and he sat up, warily glancing around the garage but it was empty. Nothing in sight but a fine collection of mint condition classic cars. The Impala’s engine had cut off at some point but Dean couldn’t remember when and he wondered for a second if he’d imagined the whole thing, somehow extending the fantasy to include this car version of Cas... the interior of the car itself was a complete mess. His spunk had reached further than he’d first realized, splattered all over the dashboard and across the windscreen.

‘Fuck,’ Dean gasped aloud, his breaths still uneven. ‘Cas I am _so_ sorry,’ he could feel the ugly face of embarrassment raising its head, mortification and guilt settling in and thought that if Cas ever went back angel, he’d never be able to look him in the eye _again_ ; he’d be just too ashamed... like he’d been caught red handed doing something incredibly perverted.

There was a box of tissues in the glove compartment and Dean quickly used them all, cleaning up the mess he’d made and made a mental note to bring down some kind of car surface cleaner first thing next morning. The whole car probably stank of sex.

He got out the car, closing the door gently behind him. He somehow wasn’t ready to leave entirely - it just felt wrong somehow- ‘So... I’ll uh... see you tomorrow...’ Dean muttered stupidly, but he had to say _something_ right? He stroked a hand over her hood and leaned in against the door. ‘Fuck, I miss you,’ he said quietly before pressing the smallest kiss against the Impala’s hood and making his way upstairs.

    

 

 

 

 

 


	10. End of the Road

As usual, it was Sam that was the catalyst. Luckily for Dean, he could never leave things be, let things go. He had to dig and push and fumble around until he found what he wanted to know, solved the mystery. No stone would be left unturned if Sam Winchester was involved. Even if ultimately it ended in tragedy. Sometimes it worked for him, sometimes it didn’t. It was the only real character flaw the guy had.

The thing was, if something bugged him, it tended to keep him up all night until he had it figured out. But seeing the bigger picture wasn’t always so easy, especially when half the pieces were missing. On those occasions, Sam’s first instinct was to research.

So he started poking about again, digging up everything he could find on demons behaving that way and if this could in some way be connected with angels. But nothing matched up right and no new clues surfaced. He researched into angelic time travel but that was just another dead end. Talking to the angels again was his last resort plan – after all, it hadn’t worked out so well last time.

He figured he was going to have to talk to the angels at some point but he was only willing if he could speak to someone he actually knew. That’s how he wound up calling down Hannah. He made it quite clear when he made the prayer that he was unwilling to speak with anyone else.

Seconds later, Hannah, in her male vessel, appeared besides him.

‘Sam Winchester,’ she said by way of greeting.

‘Hey,’ Sam gulped wondering what he could say to get the information he wanted. ‘So I was wondering if you could tell me what went down that day – when Dean went back to 1973?’

‘I’m sure there is little I can add to what your brother has already told you.’

Sam gave a fake chuckle. ‘Trust me, _anything_ would be more to go on than what Dean’s told me.’ Hannah stared at him curiously, her kind brown eyes boring into him. ‘It’s just... Cas was my friend too, y’know and I’d sure like to know what happened to him. I know he and Dean share this ‘ _more profound bond_ ’ or whatever and yeah, I’m pretty sure Dean’s in love with him... but I cared about him too and I... I just need to know for my own peace of mind and I need to know for Dean’s sake... What happened that day?’

Hannah looked mildly irritated but deigned to reply anyway. ‘There were complications,’ she said vaguely. ‘Your brother was dropped straight into the midst of a gang of rebel angels – some of Petiel’s followers. From what I’ve gathered they employed a witch – the one you have hostage in your dungeon I believe – who worked with experimental magic. She was supposed to keep your brother out of the way whilst they dealt with your parents. Unfortunately, Castiel got in the way and took the brunt of the spell onto himself.’

Sam stared at her, seeing the truth written plainly there. ‘So he _did_ die?’

Hannah cocked her head to one side in a very Cas-like fashion. ‘Die? I never felt his grace burn out... but it is hard to say for certain... In his cursed state I couldn’t sense his grace _anywhere._ So he could be dead, yes. However... I do not believe the spell was meant to kill him...’ Sam looked hopeful for a second. ‘That doesn’t mean it couldn’t have had any unwanted side effects. The spell was meant for your brother, not an angel and it was _very_ experimental, as I say.’

‘So you really don’t know if he’s dead or alive.’

‘No.’

‘Hannah... what did the spell _do?’_

Hannah shifted uncomfortably and Sam wondered if she was somehow embarrassed.

‘I wasn’t there when the spell was made, I only arrived after but I believe it was some kind of transformative spell.’ Sam squinted at her. ‘The witch says it is irreversible.’ Sam opened his mouth to interrupt but Hannah ploughed on. ‘She is _not_ lying.’

‘Okay, great... but... if there’s even the slightest chance, it’d be enough. It’s just so hard to believe that Dean would give up on Cas like that...’ Sam trailed off reminded of another time, years ago, when he’d said something similar to Bobby... _‘If there’s only one working part, that’s enough. We’re not just going to give up on-‘_ what had he been talking about that time and why was he being reminded of that right now? He brushed the memory away, thinking he’d deal with it later. ‘Well thanks anyway... that gives me a lot more to go on, so...’ Hannah nodded once, looking very serious.

‘Do you know anything about this?’ Sam asked changing the subject to something else he needed answers on. He pushed the newspaper lying on the table over to her. The headline _Missing Family_ with the image of Millie Cornhouse underneath. Hannah read the article and looked up curiously at Sam, shaking her head. ‘See that girl there? She ambushed me and my brother that same day Petiel sent Dean back to 1973. She was a demon. And she had a lot of demon friends with her. We managed to escape but we’ve not heard from them since.’

‘And naturally this worries you in case the two events are somehow related.’

‘Yes.’

‘I will look into it. It is possible Petiel set it up as a diversion but I have heard nothing about it previously.’

‘Well if it was meant to be a diversion then it didn’t really work. I mean- he didn’t know I was gonna pray for help that night, did he?’

Hannah eyed him thoughtfully, her dark brows drawn together but she didn’t say anything else before disappearing.

‘Great,’ Sam thought. ‘Well, maybe she’ll find something...’

 

 

 

Sam’s only real other clue was Aurelia but he’d been putting off talking to her because that seemed like a can of worms he really didn’t want to open. He was all too well aware of how intensely attractive he’d found her, all too aware of how alluring she’d been. All too aware that this wouldn’t be the first time he’d fallen for someone so potentially dangerous.

He doubted she would tell him much more in any case.

That one time he had managed to sneak down there, the only information she’d willingly parted with had been cryptic at best.

In the end he decided to confront Dean about her because _seriously,_ how long were they going to continue keeping her down in their dungeon for anyway? Feeding her and escorting her to the bathroom. It wasn’t like she was a demon. She might have some seriously messed up priorities but she w _as_ human and deserved some basic human rights; no one deserved to be locked away from sunlight for that long.

‘What are we doing about Aurelia?’ he asked one morning over breakfast, like it was the most normal thing in the world to discuss your captives over poached eggs and French toast.

‘Who?’

Sam had had a feeling his brother wouldn’t have a clue who he was talking about. ‘ _Aurelia._ The witch we’ve had locked up in our dungeon for near on four months now.’

‘How the fuck do you know her name?’

And wow, if Sam hadn’t guessed that would be Dean’s next question.

‘Someone had to feed her when you were ill.’

Dean grunted, looking down at his own breakfast like he wanted to murder it. ‘What did she do that was so bad we have a right to keep her chained up down there?’

‘She’s a witch, Sammy. She tried to... she’s the reason Cas is gone.’

‘Well, yeah... I figured _that.’_

‘What else did she tell you?’ Dean asked casually.

Sam snorted irritably. ‘Pretty much nothing. I mean, sure... she talked about herself but she had no inclination to spill the beans on her captor. I mean, wow, you’re really pulling the whole Stockholm syndrome thing with her.’ Dean looked surprised. ‘Not intentional then?’

‘No.’

‘She seemed to have a healthy respect for you.’

‘Huh,’ then Dean realised where Sam was going with this. ‘I’ve never _hurt_ her!’ he said defensively. ‘Well... not since she got here. I mean I knocked her out back in 1973 but-‘

‘Okay, I get it... I want to speak to her again.’

‘What? No way!’ Sam threw him one of his trademark bitch faces. ‘Why?’

‘She might know something that could help us.’

‘Trust me. She doesn’t.’

‘Not even about those demons?’

‘She’s from 1973, Sam!’

‘Okay, okay. You’re probably right.’ The brothers went back to eating their breakfast and didn’t say another word about it, but Dean kept a closer eye on Aurelia from then on and didn’t let his brother anywhere near her.

 

 

 

The day Hannah came back, Dean was down in the shooting range and Sam was archiving some of the men of letters documents onto his laptop.

‘Sam Winchester.’

Sam jumped about a foot in the air, turning to stare at her. ‘God, Hannah, you’ve got to give a guy a warning before you just jump in like that!’

‘Jump? I didn’t jump,’ and Sam was so reminded of Cas that he had to laugh.

‘Right. Yeah, I mean... never mind... um... you heard something?’

Hannah continued to stare at him curiously, her thick brows drawn together but she answered anyway. ‘Yes. I believe that you’re right and the two incidents are related. It seems like Petiel summoned those demons that same morning. I don’t understand why word of this hasn’t reached me sooner. I can only assume that there is still a faction of angels working with Petiel’s agenda.’

‘Shit.’

Hannah cocked her head to one side but didn’t say anything in response to Sam’s expletive.

‘D’you think they’ll be back?’

‘I imagine so. One source we interrogated tells me they had a backup plan. Upon failing to prevent you and your brother’s conception, they would raise an army.’

‘Shit, shit, shit.’ Hannah frowned again. ‘Sorry.’ Sam figured swearing in front of an angel was probably some kind of minor sin. ‘Um, so... what do we do now?’

‘I’m not sure what else _can_ be done without further information,’ she answered seriously. ‘But you and your brother should err on the side of caution until we hear anything else. It is possible that the ambush on the road was meant as some kind of warning. Maybe that’s how they plan to surprise you again.’

Hannah left soon after that and Sam went straight down to the shooting range. Dean was furious when he heard Sam had been in touch with Hannah but when he heard Hannah’s news he sobered up considerably.

‘’S’okay Sammy,’ he said loading his pistol up with another cartridge. ‘We won’t let them take us by surprise this time.’ He knocked a few more bullets into the targets, hitting them square in the face and looking back to his brother with a cocky grin. Sam rolled his eyes.

‘I’m gonna go make sure the Impala’s all stocked up-‘

Dean cut across him wide eyed, ‘No, no, no! I’ll do that.’ Sam stared at him. ‘You go, err... here,’ he said handing the pistol over to Sam. ‘You practice a few shots. I’ll make sure she’s all stocked up, no worries,’ he clapped Sam on the back and practically leapt out the room, clearly not wanting to be questioned further. Sam stared after him. It seemed like Dean was getting more and more possessive of that dumb car with every passing day.

Sam took a couple of shots with disinterest, cleaning out the targets just as well as his big brother. If Dean really was occupied with the Impala... that could potentially give him a few minutes...

Seconds later, Sam was peering cautiously around the corridor. He couldn’t hear anything, so presumably Dean had made it to the garage by now. Sam wondered off to the basement, pulling back the shelves to reveal their dungeon and the beautiful Aurelia, sitting there like she owned the place.

‘Well, hello. I didn’t expect to be seeing you again any time ever.’

‘Yeah, Dean’s been keeping you pretty tight under wraps since he got better again.’

‘I gathered,’ she said her eyes sparkling. ‘But you’re here now.’

‘Yes,’ he didn’t say anything for a second, feeling just as self conscious around her as he had the first time. ‘Look. I know now about Cas’s curse.’

‘Yeah? How much do you know?’ And _damn_ , she’d caught onto that one fast. Sam had been hoping to talk her into revealing more but she evidently wasn’t into playing dumb.

‘Enough,’ Sam said confidently, though he didn’t feel it, not one iota.

‘Right. Sure you do. Heard it from your big bro did you?’

‘Yeah. Straight from the horse’s mouth.’

She cackled. ‘Trust me, there is nothing straight about that horse, mouth or otherwise.’ Sam gawped at her incredulously. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t resist. It gets pretty dull around here. I have to take my entertainment where I can get it.’

‘Right. Um...’ he was lost for thought now. _What had he come down here to ask about again?_ ‘I know it’s a long shot but d’you know anything about Petiel and the other rebel angels involvement with demons?’

She seemed genuinely interested but, ‘Nope. Sorry. They didn’t let me in on any of their little secrets I’m afraid.’

‘Yeah, I thought as much... um... so the spell...’

‘Irreversible,’ she said, looking bored and staring up at the dull ceiling.

‘Right. I’ve heard. Um, what about a communication spell.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Some way we could err... communicate with Cas... no matter what the curse has done to him.’

‘So you _don’t_ know what the spell did,’ she said with a smirk and Sam couldn’t help smiling back... there was just something about her...

‘No, okay. No. I don’t know what the spell did but... look... _please_ will you help me?’

‘I don’t know... your brother might get pretty mad about this.’

‘Let him. He’ll be the one going into hysterics when he gets to talk to his angel.’

Aurelia smirked again, ‘Oooh, so you admit there’s something going on between them?’

‘Are you kidding me? You couldn’t have had that long to see them interact with each other and even you’ve figured it out. So will you help me?’

‘Okay.’

 

 

 

Aurelia set him up with a list of ingredients, telling him to include an angel feather just to be sure. ‘Oh and don’t forget to say the words correctly – if you mispronounce even one of them, the spell will be useless.’

‘Got it.’ Sam said confidently, these days he was borderline fluent when it came to Latin.

He managed to get hold of all the ingredients in the men of letters storeroom, including some angel feathers. Other things he’d needed included some clear quartz and the rune _ansuz_ written in blood. He pricked his thumb with the tip of a knife and scrawled the rune onto a scrap of paper; it looked kind of like an f shape, two short lines coming off the central line at an angle, pointing downwards.

‘Oh and... try doing it in the car,’ she’d added before he left. Sam stared at her, something of a _what the fuck_ expression on his face. ‘Trust me,’ I think the spell will work better there.’

‘Why would a communication spell work better in a car?’ Sam had asked completely confused.

Aurelia muttered something about spells working better when moving at high speeds which didn’t make a lot of sense to Sam but he decided to trust her with this one, she sure knew a lot more about spell craft than he did.

 

 

 

The following day they were on their way to a hunt in Arkansas when Sam decided to give the spell a try. It was a pretty low profile spell and Sam was relatively confident he could pull it off without Dean catching on. He placed the quartz on the dash – I mean, nothing weird about that, right? – and held onto the scrap of paper which he’d entwined with the angel feathers.  

Dean looked to be in pretty deep concentration on the road, so he muttered the Latin words under his breath: ‘ _Intellectus ore communicatio audientium._ ’

‘What did you say?’ Dean asked glancing over at his brother.

‘Um, nothing. Sorry. Talking to myself.’

‘First sign of madness, Sammy.’

‘Yeah, I’ve heard.’

Dean’s eyes returned to the road and Sam glanced shiftily about the car, looking for some sign that the spell had worked but nothing seemed to have happened. He wondered if he should try again and then he remembered the one thing he’d forgotten to say – Cas’s name. And there was no way he’d get away with that with his big brother sat right next to him. Dude was fine tuned to anything and everything to do with the angel, there was no way he wouldn’t notice if Sam so much as _mouthed_ his name.

Sam had an idea, ‘So...’ he began tentatively, desperately trying to think up a way he could drop his name casually into conversation. ‘This case, huh. Sounds like a tricky one?’

‘Yeah, maybe.’

‘Sure wish we had _Castiel_ around to help us out, y’know...’

Dean cast his brother an irritated look.

‘Yeah, I guess... he was more than just a _tool_ though, Sam. He was our friend.’

‘Yeah... yeah, I know that Dean,’ the Impala descended into silence again and Sam cast another furtive look around to see if anything had changed but he couldn’t see any differences. ‘You miss him?’ he prodded. Now he’d opened up the subject, he might as well at least try to get Dean to talk.

‘Of course I fucking miss him!’ Dean snapped. ‘Don’t you?’ he seemed furious that Sam would even suggest otherwise.

‘Yeah... yeah, of course I do. He was my friend too, y’know. But it’s different with you.’

‘What is?’ and Dean sounded like he was ready to punch Sam in the face right about now.

‘You and Cas.’

‘Fuck’s sake, Sammy. There was nothing going on between me and Cas.’

‘No but-‘ and that’s when Sam saw them. There had to be nearly a hundred people stood blocking the road ahead. Dean’s mind had been elsewhere which meant he only just noticed them and he hit the brakes with a crunch.

‘Shit.’

‘This is it.’

‘Yeah, looks that way.’

‘You ready?’

‘As I’ll ever be.’ The two brothers exchanged a look, pulling their weapons out of their jacket pockets as they spoke. The Colt, Ruby’s knife and a couple of hand me down angel blades.

The group had closed in around the car and the brothers got out, hands raised as they looked around at their adversaries. The ‘army’ seemed to be a pretty even mix of both angels and demons from what Dean could tell. Black eyes flashed through the group, whilst the rest stood haughty and proud. There were some half-familiar faces amongst the demons – clearly the farming family who’d ‘disappeared’. Dean caught sight of the demon girl in the midst of them, wearing Millie Cornhouse’s body like she had some kind of right and he felt sick to the stomach but ready to take on anything these goons had to offer.

Having got out on opposite sides of the car, the brothers were separated across the road from one another, both in impossible situations, surrounded on all sides by angels and demons.

Dean rested his hand on the side of his car and grinned cockily around at his adversaries. It seemed like maybe they’d finally reached the end of the road. After all this time and it was simply a matter of being outnumbered. He’d go down fighting regardless; maybe they’d take a few down with them - give the rest of the world half a chance.

Dean was as ready for them as he ever possibly could be; demon killing knife in one hand, angel blade in the other. He could hear Sam shouting from the other side, though he couldn’t see him, the sound of bullet being fired; apparently his fight had already started.

Before they could make a move, Dean was launching himself into the fray, knives flashing on either side of him as his arms swung from left to right and several bodies crumpled at his feet. Those were just the first ones though, his reckless actions having taken them by surprise. Now he was hit by the full force of what was basically a collected army. Knives clashed on knives and he could feel himself getting pushed back – it was only a matter of time before the onslaught became too much, before tiredness overtook him, and his injuries brought him down.

And then in the distance he heard the roar of an engine, the Impala brought to life by sheer force of will, the need for the angel to protect his charge so strong it could reach through a powerful enchantment that had been in place for more than four decades.

‘Thank fuck,’ Dean muttered, falling to his knees and closing his eyes as he finally found himself overwhelmed. Neither the angels nor the demons saw it coming. After all, there was no one behind the wheel. The car swung around throwing at least ten demons flat on their stolen faces and then without any hesitation, wheeling over them. The sound of screaming voices filled the air and Dean flinched but he could hear the sound of Sam’s voice in the distance, an exorcism on his lips and he knew it would work out okay somehow.

He opened his eyes, half-scared of what he was going to see. The air was filled with smoke and sparks were flying everywhere. The screech of the rubber wheels against the asphalt had Dean’s head spinning and he turned to watch the Impala hurtle forwards at something past a hundred miles an hour, angels flying everywhere as the car hit body after body. It seemed to know where all of them were, though Dean had no idea how. He clambered to his feet watching in amazement. The car didn’t just seem to be running them over; it seemed to be physically extinguishing the life from angel and demon alike. With each hit came a flash of blue light and the vessels eyes went blank, much in the same way an angel might smite someone.

There was just one group left, a mixed bag of angels and demons, but they hadn’t given up. Despite their fallen numbers, they continued to circle around Dean, slowly closing in, evidently intent on getting to him before the car got to them, but they didn’t stand a chance against that flash of metallic black machinery. She span in the road and paused facing them, her engine rumbling like she was revving it. Then she picked up a speed even higher than before, racing towards them and bashing every single last one out of existence.

Dean didn’t see when or even how it happened but the second the last angel was down, he looked up at his car, only to find it wasn’t there anymore. In its place, stood Cas.

He was stood still, staring straight ahead at Dean, though he was still some distance off, those bright blue eyes blazing. He was kind of a mess; a short scruffy beard, not unlike the one he’d had in Purgatory, adorned his face and he had thick black dirt splattered all up his bare legs. Not to mention the fact that he was stark naked.

Dean didn’t care about any of that.

He took one look at Cas, looking like he was fresh from Purgatory all over again and then he was running flat out over the short distance that separated them and without hesitation pulling that trembling, bone thin frame into his arms and refusing to let go.

‘Cas? Cas, you ‘kay, buddy?’ and Cas was nodding weakly against his shoulder. Dean pushed him back slightly, staring him in the face to be sure that he was indeed alright after spending more than four decades as a car.

Cas nodded again, smiling a big gummy smile that lit up his whole face and Dean felt that familiar something swoop through his stomach. He brought his shaking hands up to cradle his face, hot pricks forming in the corners of his eyes and he was pulling his face in closer, falling into a dream-like state as he pressed his lips up against his forehead and then decorating his face further with more kisses, each one falling in a different place. One over the scruff on his jaw, one on each of his eyelids, one on the side of his nose. Cas was still smiling back, the euphoria that had started in his stomach now rushing through his veins and making him feel more alive than he had in months.

And then he was leaning his head forwards at an angle and pressing one small tentative kiss against Cas’s lips. The second he did it he was terrified and, before Cas even had a chance to respond, he was pulling back a half-formed apology already on his lips but Cas chased after the kiss, his lips connecting back with Dean’s before he’d got a single word out. He pressed in closer and Dean let his eyes flutter closed as Cas’s arms encircled his back, drawing him in deeper. Dean let an involuntary little breathless moan escape as he pressed back.

Then Cas was licking his way into Dean’s mouth and Dean could feel his heart soaring as he became overwhelmed with Cas. The angel made a contented noise and Dean was half laughing, half crying.

‘Never...’ he said, barely pulling back enough to speak intelligibly. ‘Never leave me again.’ it was more a question than a statement and maybe he just really needed to hear Cas speak.

‘I’ve never left you,’ he answered, his voice coming out like gravel, rougher than ever after so many years of disuse. ‘Not once since before you were born,’ and he said it so deadpan that Dean couldn’t help laughing again, tears streaming down his face because he was right, of course.

Somewhere in the distance, Sam watched them, smirking in a self-satisfied sort of way, wondering where the hell Cas had come from and where the hell the car had gone. But he could only put up with their heartfelt reunion for so long before he started losing his patience. ‘Um, guys? Dunno if you noticed but... yeah, you probably haven’t noticed... um, Cas... kinda isn’t wearing anything... guys?’

  

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Acceleration

Dean picked up the old trench coat from the ground where it had landed after Cas had transformed and wrapped it around his bare shoulders. The tears on his cheeks were starting to dry but he ignored the need to wipe them away. Cas’s knuckles grazed across his cheeks, wiping them for him. ‘Hey,’ he said, holding Dean back at arm’s length. Dean laughed, rubbing his face back into Cas’s knuckles as the angel watched him with concern. ‘I suppose you’ll miss your car now.’

Dean shrugged. ‘Nah... maybe,’ he added more honestly. ‘I’m just - just glad you’re back, man. Didn’t think I’d ever see you in the flesh again, so to speak,’ and he could feel fresh tears prickling his already red eyes. ‘So fucking glad you’re back,’ he repeated, cupping Cas’s face again and pressing another kiss to his open mouth. This was a side of Dean that not many people got to see, this emotional, sentimental side, and whilst Cas wasn’t wholly unfamiliar with it, he’d never experienced it quite like this before; it was hitting him on another level entirely and he pressed desperately back into the kiss, suddenly wanting to take all of him, all of this and keep it forever, locked away inside himself...

Dean smiled, pulling away, a twinkle in his eyes as he muttered, ‘Later.’ Cas smirked back and Dean felt heat rising to his cheeks. He turned to face a warily approaching Sam, looking very pink in the face.

‘You two done?’ he asked with raised eyebrows. ‘It’s pretty chilly out here.’

Dean squinted at him, self-consciously reassessing his recent behaviour. He rubbed a hand to the back of his neck, staring at a point in the middle distance as he found himself no longer able to meet his brother’s eye.

But Sam knew his brother better than almost anyone and within seconds he was pressing a reassuring hand to Dean’s shoulder. ‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘This is great. This is a _good_ thing. Fuck, it’s probably the first good thing to come out of our shitty lives in forever,’ he was smiling warmly at Dean who chanced a glance at him, still feeling pretty hot around the collar. ‘I’m happy for you,’ he finished seriously.

Dean was pretty embarrassed, ‘Okay, yeah, yeah... that’s enough. Talk about a chick flick moment to end _all_ chick flick moments.’ But he couldn’t help glancing over at the angel stood beside him. The pair smiled shyly but adoringly at one another and Sam made a fake gagging noise.

‘God, youtwo are _so cute._ It’s literally sickening,’ he sniggered which had Dean scowling at him, but he couldn’t hold it up for long. Sam’s acceptance had brought him a kind of central peace that he’d never known before.

‘Let’s go home,’ Dean said taking Cas’s hand and leading him onwards.

‘Dean?’ Cas said as they set off.

‘Yeah?’

‘Will you still call me baby?’ he asked seriously, turning solemn eyes on the other man. Dean laughed. ‘I’ve kind of got used it after all these years.’

‘If that’s what you want, baby,’ he chuckled, trying it out on his tongue, but it rolled off quite naturally and Cas looked satisfied. Dean just smiled and pulled him in closer as they made their way across the field.

 

 

 

It was a _long_ walk back to the bunker but Dean didn’t let go of Cas’s hand for even a second before they stepped over the threshold about two hours later. The three of them had barely said a word on the journey. Partly because Dean was at a loss with what to say and content to walk quietly besides his angel, occasionally gripping his hand a little too tight to ensure himself that this wasn’t just a stupid dream. Many sweet shy smiles had passed between Dean and Cas and Sam had watched on from the sidelines, feeling almost unbearably happy for them.

When they finally made it through into the kitchen, Sam made himself scarce and Dean finally found his voice again as they sat at the kitchen table together, Dean’s fingers absentmindedly weaving in and out of Cas’s over the tabletop, a smile he wasn’t even aware of drifting over his face.

And the two of them were smiling at each other again and Cas seemed so incredibly bright, like the sunshine, that Dean just had to look away for a second, he was so dazzled.

He actually giggled, ‘Can’t believe this is fucking happening.’ He said it quietly but Cas caught every word.

‘But you want it?’ he asked, for the first time unsure.

‘Yeah,’ Dean said, staring at him wide eyed. ‘With everything that’s in me. For as long as I’m living... and... and any time I’ve got after...’ he added. And Cas was kissing him again, across the table, and he could feel the heavy warmth of Cas’ tongue, searching out every corner of his mouth and he sucked it up between his lips, making Cas full on moan and Dean’s head was going blank as warm shoots of pleasure wrapped themselves around him...

Dean pulled him in closer, practically climbing on top of the table in order to get closer to him, deepening the kiss impossibly further. Standing up and knocking away the chairs behind him, climbing onto Cas’s lap and pressing their bodies as close together as was humanly possible.

He pulled back, breathing hard, watching Cas’s flushed cheeks, his pink lips swollen from kissing, wanting to dive right back in. ‘Fuck. Cas...’ he found himself babbling. ‘I want you,’ Cas nodded seriously. ‘I want you so fucking bad,’ and he was trembling slightly, still waiting for a rejection that was never coming. Kissing was one thing but sex with another man was another thing entirely. But man, was he ready for it. He just hoped Cas wanted it as much as he did.

He clambered out of Cas’s lap, not taking his eyes off him and still holding tight to one of his hands. He gave a slight tug and Cas rose, looking very serious as he followed Dean down the corridor to his bedroom. Dean’s heart was thudding heavily in his chest all the way. It had never seemed such a long journey from the kitchen table to his bed before, but this time it seemed to take forever, his nerves mounting with every step.

They sat together on the edge of Dean’s bed. Dean was looking at everything but Cas, wondering when he’d turned back into a teenager again, ‘cause damn, he hadn’t been this nervous since he was a frigging virgin.

What if Cas didn’t even want this? What if he wasn’t ready?

Cas evaporated those questions by making the first move, removing the trench coat so that he was completely naked once again. And maybe Dean hadn’t cared before but now he was hyper aware of every bare inch of him.

Cas placed a finger beneath Dean’s chin, turning his head so that Dean had no choice but to look at him. And oh, what a glorious sight; slim arms, flat chest and toned stomach muscles. Thick runner’s thighs that looked like they could strangle a man and endless miles of beautiful, soft, tan skin. A healthy scattering of fine black hairs covered his chest, making their gradual way southwards down the center of his abdomen, petering out to a point past his navel and then growing thicker and coarser as they reached his pubis.  

Dean let himself glance down at Cas’ cock, hanging long and heavy at half mast between his legs, patterned over with more fine dark hairs and flushed pink at the tip and _oh fuck_ , he wanted to know what it was like to have that inside him, pushing up against his prostate. And fuck if he was going to wait any longer to find out. He tore his eyes away from Cas’ cock, meeting the angel’s eyes again and feeling his cheeks go pink. ‘Um...’

But Cas merely started to undress Dean in a carefully thorough manner and without saying a word. First his jacket, shirt and t-shirt. He stopped there, allowing his hands to drift over Dean’s mostly bare chest, the smooth contrast to his own clearly exciting him, teasing over hard pink nipples and watching Dean’s eyes darken as he did so.

He moved on to unzipping Dean’s fly before pushing him backwards onto the mattress. Dean went willingly; content to let Cas take control for now. He’d been the driver for long enough, it was Cas’ turn now.

Cas yanked away his jeans and boxers and, in one fluid movement, pulled them off over his feet. He let his hands slide back up the sides of Dean’s legs. There he stopped, staring completely unabashed at Dean’s erect cock and then glancing up into Dean’s wide eyes. ‘Can I-?’ he began but Dean was already nodding eagerly so, without further hesitation, Cas was sinking his mouth down around Dean’s cock, swallowing him all the way down in one slick move.

Dean hadn’t exactly been expecting the angel to give him a blow job.

Almost immediately, his brain turned to mush and he let out a deep incoherent sound. Cas looked up at him, those enormous blue eyes peering at him innocently under dark lashes. Or as innocently as he could whilst pulling up and sucking back down again, hollowing out his cheeks so that Dean felt his own eyes roll back into his head and all too soon he was brought gasping and moaning to the very edge. ‘Aaah. Ca-aas! Fuck,’ was about all he managed to get out.

How the hell did his angel know how to do this? Cas sucked down again, pressing the back of his tongue into the central vein that ran the length of Dean’s cock and then licking up the precum from the slit on the head like it was salted caramel or something.

He licked down and over his balls before diving back down onto his cock again like he was starved. Steadily bobbing up and down and up and down over and over again and simultaneously tickling his fingers over his balls and then Dean was cumming hard, shooting a thick white stream of spunk straight down Cas’s throat. Cas swallowed, licking the excess from around his lips and sitting up. He stared down at Dean who was thinking he’d honestly never cum so hard in his life.

‘Fuck,’ he managed to get out, staring up at Cas bleary eyed.

Cas seemed to take this as an instruction, his fingers working their steady way down from his balls, rubbing over his perineum and hovering over his hole, drawing soft circles there, teasing and tickling, making Dean want to press further down onto them. But Cas withdrew his fingers giving Dean an admonishing look. ‘Lube,’ he said, once again showing more aptitude for the whole sex thing than Dean had known him to possess.

‘Bottom drawer,’ he muttered, pointing to the right. Cas left him for a second to retrieve the small bottle. He squirted a small amount into his hand, coating his fingers in it. He sat back on his knees and let his fingers seek out Dean’s entrance again. It felt even better now that he was all slicked up, running smooth circles around Dean’s hole, the tips of his fingers occasionally dipping teasingly in.

Then Cas was suddenly straddling his hips, pressing a firm kiss to Dean’s lips, sliding his tongue into Dean’s mouth at the same time as he let his middle finger slide in up to the first knuckle. Dean gasped into Cas’ mouth and Cas caught it in another deep kiss, pushing the finger in further as he licked into Dean’s mouth.

It was strange; Dean had only had his own fingers up there before. He always liked fucking himself on his own fingers before and Cas’ fingers felt even better, longer than his own and more persistent. He pressed back onto him, silently asking for more, wanting to take it deeper. Cas kissed him again, drawing out his middle finger and, before Dean had a chance to complain, pushing back in again and _fuck_ , that felt _so good_ now he had two fingers inside him. There was a slight burn as Cas’ fingers began to scissor him apart, opening him up further, but it was pretty mild in relation to how good it felt to have Cas on top of him like this and he lifted his head slightly, seeking out another kiss.

Cas slid both fingers out and then pushed three fingers back in and Dean actually moaned into the angel’s mouth, working his hips up and down so he could fuck himself on Cas’s fingers. He hadn’t fully appreciated until relatively recently how much he actually loved being finger fucked.

And Cas seemed to love doing it if his expression was anything to go by. Dean opened his eyes to see Cas’ pupils blown wide, the finest ring of blue circling them as he watched his fingers moving in and out of Dean’s body. It was probably the hottest thing that Dean had ever seen.

He could feel his cock growing impossibly hard again and then Cas tickled over his prostate and his mind went blank. ‘FUCK!’ he shouted, seeming to startle the angel who stared wide eyed down at Dean. He did it again this time pressing in with a bit more purpose and Dean practically writhed with pleasure beneath him. But it wasn’t enough. ‘More,’ he gasped out. ‘You. I want you. Fuck me, Cas! I want you inside me so fucking bad. Please just fuck me already! I can’t-‘ he jabbered away until Cas pressed a silencing kiss against his lips, sucking his tongue into his mouth and biting down on his bottom lip in a way that was weirdly reassuring. As soon as he broke the kiss, Dean was talking in that ineloquent fashion again. ‘I want your fucking cock inside me fucking my fucking brains out.’

Cas nodded silently, looking very serious, pressing forward for another sweet seemingly innocent kiss and drawing out his fingers simultaneously. Cas’s cock hovered at his entrance for a moment as he slicked himself up with more lube and Dean watched on with barely disguised fascination as Cas touched himself, his cock growing more interested, the head leaking drops of precum.

And then he could feel that heavy warmth pressing at him. Instinctively he wanted to close his eyes but he forced them to stay open and Cas kept their eyes locked together as he slowly and ever so gently pressed further forward. Dean could feel himself getting more deeply filled up with every passing second, feeling the burning ring around the entrance of his hole and not minding it one bit.

Cas stared down at Dean in wonder; clearly feeling pretty damn overwhelmed himself.

‘Move, Cas!’ Dean urged him, lifting his hips up off the mattress impatiently. Cas nodded, kissing him again and drawing out slowly before pushing back in again. Dean watched Cas’s eyes roll back in his head, eyelids fluttering closed. ‘Fuck,’ Dean muttered, thrusting his own hips upwards, urging Cas to fuck him harder. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful, Cas,’ he muttered out loud between gasps and he hadn’t meant to say it, it just slipped out and he pulled Cas’s face back down towards his own so that he could kiss him again. His lips, his cheeks, his closed eyes.

Cas picked up a steady rhythm, rolling his hips down into Dean’s pelvis and moaning out something incomprehensible.

‘Fuck, Ca-aas!’ Dean moaned again, writhing around beneath Cas as his cock hit Dean’s prostate. ‘There! Do that again, right there!’ Cas stared down at him hungrily, picking up speed and thrusting in and out of Dean hard, hitting his prostate every single time so that Dean was seeing stars.

He could hear the sound of skin slapping together, his cock fully hard again against Cas’s chest and then Dean was ejaculating again, somehow even harder than before and Cas was calling out Dean’s name, clearly tipping over the edge himself and filling Dean up with warm, wet cum.

Cas collapsed against Dean’s chest, both men breathing heavily. As soon as Cas caught his breath, he was kissing Dean again and Dean was practically sobbing as he gasped out between kisses, ‘I love you so fucking much, Cas. So fucking much...’

‘I know...’ Cas growled back. ‘I’ve always known... I love you too...’

 

 

 

‘I’ve missed you so bad,’ Dean muttered half an hour later.

‘I know.’ Cas replied again from where he was laid out next to Dean. ‘It’s okay. I’m here now,’ and he pulled Dean into his arms, cradling him against his chest and Dean didn’t even care that he was being babied. Melting into Cas like this at the end of the day was something he could happily get used to. Cas’ eyes were closed but that didn’t stop him peppering the side of Dean’s face with little kisses.

‘G’night, Cas.’

‘Good night, Dean. Sleep well.’

Dean can honestly say that he’d never slept as well as he did that first night they shared a bed together. And even though Cas didn’t strictly speaking need to sleep, he allowed his aching body to rest, arms encircling his friend, watching the rise and fall of his chest and counting the freckles across his face. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of Dean breathing against him and thinking he’d never felt such peace.

 

 

 


	12. Out of Gas

As soon as they reached the bunker, Sam made himself scarce, being sure he wouldn’t be missed any time soon. He was genuinely happy for his brother and his friend, he really was, but he was pretty sure they wouldn’t want him around any time in the near future.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t entirely sure what had gone on back in the field with the angels and demons flying everywhere and with Cas just appearing out of nowhere and the Impala disappearing into thin air. He could probably work it out if he wanted to but the only thing that he’d come up with so far seemed far too ludicrous to be realistically plausible.

His thoughts jumped to Aurelia and he was pretty sure she could clear up any underlying doubts he had on that score.

‘Hey!’ Sam pulled back the sliding door and entered the dungeon but was pulled up short at the sight of Aurelia. Gone was her queen-like posture replaced instead with a fragile young woman, staring into the middle distance, a lost look on her face.

‘S-Sam?’

‘Yeah, what... are you-?’

‘Don’t ask me if I’m ok. I’ve been chained up down here for months. What do you think? Dean’s not been down here in hours and-’

‘I know... I... It’s over...’

‘What?’

‘Cas is back.’

‘What? He’s alive... like _really_?’

‘Yeah...’

Aurelia made a noise that was half way between a snort and a hysterical cry. Sam stared.

‘Now what?’

‘I- I dunno.’

‘Come to finish me off?’

‘No! Of course not!’

‘So what? I’m free to go?’ she laughed, sounding half crazed.

‘I guess.’

‘Wrong.’

‘What d’you-‘

‘What I mean, Sam, is that I’m not _from_ this time. I’ve barely set foot outside these dungeon walls but I’m willing to bet a lot has changed out there from what I’m used to...’

‘Yeah... it has,’ he admitted and though she didn’t say it out loud, Sam reckoned what was really bothering her was that everyone she’d ever known probably wouldn’t recognise her anymore - too much time had passed – and that’s if they’re still alive. She would have no one. ‘I guess Cas could probably take you back to your own time...’ he didn’t want to say it but he made himself.

‘I’d still be alone,’ she said as though she knew what he was thinking. ‘There’s nothing for me back there.’

Sam searched her green eyes, no longer sparking bright but wet and distant. He crouched down besides her. ‘You could always stay here. Yeah, the world has changed a lot in the last forty odd years but I can help you with that. You don’t have to be alone.’

She gave him a sad smile.

‘You reckon your brother would go for that? He _hates_ witches.’

Sam laughed. ‘Yeah, he does- but screw him. You don’t _have_ to practice anymore. Or-‘ he added quickly at the look of derision on her face. ‘And I was gonna suggest this anyway... you could go in for some more of that experimental stuff... maybe show him magic doesn’t always have to have evil intent.’

‘It doesn’t,’ she added earnestly. ‘It’s what you do with it.’

‘Exactly,’ Sam smiled. ‘And I think Dean knows that really, but maybe he needs someone to show him how good it can really be.’

‘Or useful?’ she asked arching one dark eyebrow.

‘Or useful,’ Sam laughed. ‘Whichever works.’ She cracked a small smile. ‘I’d like to learn from you too, if you don’t mind...’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Have you ever heard of the Men of Letters?’ Aurelia shook her head.

‘They were this secret society of hoarders of information pertaining to the supernatural. They’re pretty much defunct now. I think it’s about time we put all their preserved knowledge to good use. And I could really use some help.’ Sam could tell he’d peaked Aurelia’s interest, her eyes rekindled their green fire with barely suppressed excitement.

‘Okay, but even if I was to agree to help – how d’you plan on accessing all that knowledge? I’m guessing they kept it pretty well hidden.’

Sam just smiled.

 

 

 

The following day Sam brought Aurelia up to the kitchen. She’d been over awed when Sam had given her a quick tour of the bunker the previous evening and relieved when he’d made up a bed for her in one of the unused rooms.

Sam for his part still couldn’t quite get his head around the idea that Cas had been ‘living’ life as a car for the past forty-two years but, as Aurelia explained it to him, it had been a _very_ experimental kind of magic.

Dean and Cas were both already sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast. At least, Dean was eating breakfast. Cas was mostly just watching him, barely disguised adoration on his face. They both turned to stare at them when they walked through the door.

‘Dean. Cas. This is Aurelia,’ Sam introduced them as though they’d never met. ‘She’s a witch from 1973 and enjoys practicing experimental magic. She needs our help adjusting to the twenty-first century and could really use some fresh air ‘cause someone’s been holding her captive for the past four months.’

‘Uh, right,’ Dean said looking away from Aurelia’s piercing glare. ‘I would say sorry about that, but... y’know...’ he caught Cas’ eye.

Cas looked from Dean to Aurelia. ‘This is the witch who turned me into a car?’

‘Yes. I did that... If it’s any consolation, I regret it almost entirely.’

‘Almost?’ Dean asked furiously, looking like he was considering throwing her back into the dungeon.

‘Well, I’d probably be dead if I’d refused to help those angels so...’

Dean looked away from her begrudgingly. ‘It was forty-two _years_ ,’ he muttered with a glance at Cas but he could see the angel had already forgiven her.

‘I _am_ sorry,’ she said looking at Cas with those big green eyes.

‘I understand your predicament must have been awkward to say the least,’ but he glanced to Sam before he turned back to her and said, ‘You’re forgiven.’ She bowed her head, hiding a small smile.

‘Thank you.’

Dean wondered what Cas had seen in Sam that helped him reach that decision and glanced at his brother himself. He wasn’t too surprised to see him smiling across at Aurelia with clear admiration in his puppy dog eyes.

Dean rolled his eyes.

‘Wow, _really_ Sammy. That must have been a romantic first meeting for you guys. Down in the dark dungeon and everything.’ Sam turned a little pink at his brother’s observation but turned the banter round on him in their usual brotherly fashion.

‘That’s Dean for you, always a stickler for romance.’

‘Shut up.’

‘No but seriously, you couldn’t get more romantic that your first kiss with Cas,’ Sam turned to Aurelia smirking as he explained. ‘Cas’d just turned back and they were both completely breathless. And Dean ran into his arms like some gay version of a Nicholas Sparks novel. Except that Cas was stark naked.’

‘All right, all right...’ Dean huffed, talking over him, but Cas interrupted them both.

‘That was hardly our _first_ kiss. Dean has kissed the Impala _many_ times,’ he said stressing the word _many_ with his wide sincere eyes. ‘And then there was that one time when Dean was going through a particularly experimental phase as a teenager and-‘

Dean suddenly realized exactly where Cas’ thoughts were taking him and shut him up with another open mouthed kiss. ‘Okay, enough talking. We need to go now-‘ and he dragged Cas out of the room before he could say anything else.

‘Maybe don’t mention that one to Sam,’ he said once they reached his room.

‘Okay,’ Cas agreed, amusement in his blue eyes. ‘Should I refrain from mentioning all of my car memories or-‘

‘No, no, it’s okay. Just maybe anything... that involves me wearing less clothing than usual...’ Cas nodded his head to show he understood.

‘I don’t want you to just block our forty years – that’s a big gap.’

‘I’m very old, Dean.’

‘Yeah, but...’

‘Much of the time... I didn’t mind being a car.’

They made themselves comfortable on Dean’s bed, lying down side by side. Cas’ words didn’t take away the guilt that had been eating away at him these past few months though, and something else had crossed his mind.

‘Sorry we ditched your plates by the way... We had to, y’know... to avoid detection and all...’ Cas cocked his head to one side slightly making Dean’s smile more pronounced.

‘You’re talking about that time you and your brother were on the run from the authorities? I know, Dean... it’s quite all right.’

‘So... I’ve gotta ask, Cas... I get the KAZ/Cas thing... pretty self explanatory. But what’s the 2Y5 all about?’ he asked with genuine curiosity.

Cas thought about it for a minute. ‘You mean... the _lettering_ on the registration plates? I honestly don’t know... KAZ is just short for Kansas – the place where the car was made... but you already knew that... You mean the similarity to my name? Purely coincidental, I imagine...’

Dean tried not to look too disappointed.

‘Uh... and about that time I hit your trunk a couple of times with the tire iron...’

‘Seventeen times,’ Cas corrected him and Dean winced.

‘Ouch. Sorry.’

‘Cars don’t feel pain but it kind of reminded me of that one time with the mark of Cain. You just lost control- it was awful watching you relive all that again.’

‘Cas I’m so-‘

‘Don’t say it.’

‘Why?’

‘It doesn’t make sense to, not after everything.’

‘I’d still rather... what I’m really sorry for though, more even than smashing you up those times – god, that makes me sound freaking awful - is that I couldn’t switch you back sooner. Must’ve sucked...’

Cas shrugged his shoulders in a fashion that looked almost comically human on him. ‘It wasn’t so bad – I don’t think I was really aware of it at the time, though I remember it all pretty well now.’ Dean could feel his cheeks heating up but he couldn’t decide which memory over the past thirty odd years he should feel most embarrassed about.

‘I have never felt mortification before as an angel but, as an ex-car, I have to admit, it feels pretty awkward having first hand memories of some of your more - _interesting_ sexual exploits.’ And Dean was pretty sure his face could give rubies a run for their redness right about now. He was also pretty sure they were both thinking about the same thing. Anna.

‘Uh... if I’d know I obviously wouldn’t have...’

‘Oh, I know. It’s okay Dean. I’m going to do my best to purge my memory entirely of that particular incident.’

‘Thanks. I guess.’

‘The worst year for me was when we were in Purgatory and Sam was looking after me-‘ it took Dean a minute to mentally get his head around that particular sentence. ‘He ‘douched me up,’ as you might say.’ Cas continued, using air quotes. ‘Stuck all kinds of things inside of me – an iPod jack, a satellite navigation system... I wasn’t even entirely sure what they were at first but they both made a lot of annoying noises.’ Dean actually chuckled. ‘I quite liked the dog though...’

‘I’m guessing you can tell me everything that sasquatch has been up to that I don’t know about, huh?’

‘Everything that happened inside... err, the car...’

‘Yeah?’

‘Did you know that, as a teenager, Sam once hid away in your car to smoke a joint he got from a man named Don,’ Castiel said very seriously, his eyes wide.

Dean full on belly laughed at that one. ‘Yeah, I remember that actually...’ the two men smiled at each other for a second. Cas looked away first, staring down at the table and shifting his fingers restlessly.

‘What will you do for a car now?’ He asked, looking worried. Dean hadn’t had a chance to give this any thought, despite their lack of transport home – he was still riding the high of having Cas back.

‘Dunno,’ he admitted thoughtfully. ‘There’s some pretty cool cars down in the basement.’ Cas wrinkled his nose, making Dean chuckle. ‘What? You jealous or somethin’?’

‘I don’t like it when you drive other cars,’ Cas answered, sounding a tad petulant.

‘I bet you don’t,’ Dean muttered with raised eyebrows.

‘That was true _before_ too.’

‘Really?’

‘I didn’t know I was the Impala,’ Cas explained honestly. ‘But I felt a weird affinity with it that I couldn’t explain to myself.’

‘Huh,’ that was the first Dean had heard of it.

‘Remember when I brought Sam back without his soul.’

‘Vividly,’ Dean replied warily, wondering where Cas was going with this.

‘And he started driving that abominable car-‘

‘You mean that Euro trash Charger, yeah...’ Dean said, gagging on the words.

‘It maybe wasn’t such an accident that I threw that angel out of the window on top of it.’ Dean started laughing hysterically. It was just too much. ‘I _really_ resented that car, I just didn’t know _why._..’

‘That’s awesome,’ Dean spluttered out.

‘But,’ he conceded. ‘I guess it’s something I’m going to have to get used to from now on. Not the Charger,’ he said with a frown as though he was talking about something godforsaken. ‘You driving other cars I mean...’

‘Yeah... I guess, seeing as the Impala is a total write off. You know, I’ve never been a big fan of driving any others either,’ he admitted. ‘The Impala was never _just a car_ , y’know... she was way more than a car. Growing up, she was the only home I ever knew. The first thing I really loved, y’know...’ and he hadn’t meant that to slip out but he didn’t regret it. He meant every word of it.

Cas gave a small smile. ‘I _do_ know,’ he said seriously and he looked so freaking beautiful, those wild blue eyes drawing Dean forever inwards.

‘Hey, d’you think... could you maybe... help me pick a new one out?’ he wasn’t asking out of courtesy – he genuinely wanted Cas’s opinion. Dude had been a car for more than forty years – he ought to know something about motors, right?

Cas appreciated the enormity of Dean’s proposal in a way most people wouldn’t understand. ‘I’d like that,’ he said with a smile before taking Dean’s hand and allowing him to lead him down to the garage.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so you've finished reading, thank you so much if you made it to the end - I really hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Please take a moment to leave a comment, it gives me such a boost when I see a message in my inbox and encourages me to keep writing. If you've spotted any mistakes or can offer up any constructive criticism, you're more than welcome to let me know as I'm all for improving my writing.
> 
> Also, you can find me on tumblr at [Once Upon A Destiel](http://onceuponadestiel.tumblr.com/). Come say hi and explore my blog, it's chock full of destiel madness :)
> 
> Just wanted to say another thank you to the amazing artist who provided the art for this story: [sonyodabaz](http://sonyodabaz.tumblr.com/). The beautiful art she's created and worked hard on makes me think I honestly couldn't have gotten luckier than having her as my artist, so a thousand hugs and kisses her way xoxoxo


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